The Voice of the Past
by silentmidnightdeath
Summary: An old friend of Gandalf's has mysteriously appeared at the Council, and they already know everything about the past, present, and maybe even the future of the Ring. What's more, this strange person also follows them on their quest, without actually becoming a member of the Fellowship. What are their real hidden motives? Title subject to change. Previously "Dark Hearted Wanderer"
1. Mysterious Stranger

**A/N: Hello one and all, this will be my first official Lord of the Rings fanfic! Yay! I will tell you I am quite the LOTR geek, but feel free to correct me if you think I am mistaken. I would prefer not to have too much flaming going on, but a little criticism is a good thing. Please R&R! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character!**

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The hooded and cloaked figure watched with curiosity as an old man robed in grey rode into the lands of their forefathers, their forest home. There was something familiar about the old man that the figure couldn't quite place. The man stopped at last, looking about him. He dismounted, before turning his face towards their shadowed hiding place.

"Come now, I haven't the time for games." He called out.

The figure recognized that voice, would know it anywhere. "Gandalf."

The wizened old man chuckled. "Indeed. It is good to see you again, my old friend."

The figures only visible feature, their mouth, curled upwards in a small smile. "It is good to see you as well. It has been far too long. You are in luck. I only just returned and was preparing to leave again at the setting of the sun."

Gandalf sighed. "I had suspected as much. I was expecting you to be absent. But, since you are here, there is grave news."

"Surely there can be nothing so grave as what drives my quest and search, my friend. I will listen, as I have some time." The figure responded, almost arrogantly.

The old man chuckled again, familiar with his friends tricks, before becoming serious once more. "A shadow has come across the land. I would ask that you attend a Council in Rivendell in little time."

Curiosity peeked, the figure leaned forward, almost eagerly. "What is this shadow? My hunt must go on, Gandalf. I, too, have little time for games."

"I am not certain; I am on my way to consult with Saruman about this evil. Keep on your guard. Your questions will undoubtedly be answered at the Council." Gandalf said, while he mounted his horse.

"When am I not?" the figure replied, amused. "Perhaps I shall, for now you have caught my waning sense of curiosity, Gandalf. Travel well and fleet, and may no dangers touch upon your road." With a raised hand, the figure waved farewell to the grey wizards departing back.

"A shadow indeed. Think me a fool, Gandalf? I know very well what shadow has returned to the land after all these years. Was I not here when it swept across Middle Earth the first time?" the figure murmured softly as they turned away to attend to their own business. Perhaps, though. Perhaps they would go to this council, if only for a source of entertainment.

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It had been a long journey on the road to Rivendell, the figure mused. However, the figures slight boredom vanished immediately at the feel of a familiar presence. The person urged their horse to great speed, flying across the land, the hunter at last having found its prey.

The closer the hooded and cloaked figure got, the more tension seeped into their muscles. The familiar sensation was getting too close to the shadow for comfort. Both steed and rider were made uneasy and pushed themselves to get there faster.

It was then that the figure burst through the trees, onto the road.

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They had all frozen when a horse and rider came jogging up the road to greet them. The figure was hooded and cloaked, and they all felt wary of this person. Aragorn grasped the hilt of his sword, watching the figure as they walked their horse forward. A few yards away, they stopped.

Before anything else could happen, a second hooded and cloaked rider burst from the trees onto the road, cutting off the first rider. The second figure called out what sounded like a challenge, but it was in some language that none of them had ever heard. Sam called out worriedly to Aragorn about Frodo's current condition.

And, with no explanation, the two riders began to duel. The second rider for some strange reason began to herd the first off the road until both vanished into the forest and the road was clear once more. Now wary, the small company of five and a pony continued on their way to Rivendell.

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After having dealt with the threat, the hooded and cloaked rider returned to the road, on the lookout in case their prey should come near again. Despite this tension, the rider continued on their way to Rivendell, to attend a council an old friend had told them about.

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When the rider reached Rivendell they weren't surprised to find that those they had helped on the road were already there, though one of the shorter ones was missing. The figure guided their horse down the familiar path to the stables before dismounting. A groom there insisted on caring for the horse rather than letting its master tend to it.

The figure walked down a familiar path, to find an old friend waiting at the end.

"Welcome to Rivendell." Lord Elrond smiled.

The figure didn't respond other than a slight wave.

"Is that all you have for old friends long parted?" he chuckled, knowing full well that the person before him wasn't prone to emotional displays with anyone except perhaps Gandalf. But those two had known each other for so long and knew the other so well that they could easily coexist.

The cloaked figure gave a small bemused smile. "But of course. That you should expect anything more would be….shocking."

With a shake of his head, Elrond waved for his old friend to walk alongside of him as they traversed the paths through Rivendell.

"I suppose Gandalf told you of this, though you were already aware of the rising shadow. Once the young hobbit recovers, the Council will be held." The elf lord explained.

He paused, turning to smile at the figure walking beside him, before shaking down his sleeves and reaching for their hood. When it fell with no resistance to their shoulders, his smile brightened slightly.

"It is good to know that you haven't changed… Lireal."

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**A/N: DUH duh duh. Cliffhanger! Kind of. I feel so proud of myself. One chapter down, who knows how many to go….If you love me, you'll kindly press that little blue button after you type at least three characters(letters) in the magic box. It would make me very happy….and it would motivate me to update sooner. **


	2. Rivendell

**A/N: Yay! Second Chapter! Whooho! Just one thing…26 views, only 1 review and 2 favs. Come on you guys, share the love! I can't make it better if you don't say anything.**

"_Anything in italics is what they call the 'ancient tongue' and no, it's not Elvish."_

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, only my character.**

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"It is good to know that you haven't changed… Lireal."

Lord Elrond remembered the face before him. She was fine featured, almost delicate looking, except for her dark stormy grey eyes that occasional flashed with hidden lightening and emotion. The lips that rarely smiled but were quick to frown; her dark mahogany hair was pulled into a braid save for the bangs that partially hid her eyes and the few shorter locks that escaped to frame her face. It was then that he noticed something awry; a large scratch across her left cheek. When he reached out as if to touch it, the woman pulled away from him, as she always had and probably always would.

He sighed. "You most likely are here more because you know that the one you hunt will be drawn to the shadow, rather than to help as you once would have."

A dark expression briefly flashed across her face. "That was a long time ago; people change. My only objective is to complete my quest."

Lord Elrond gave her a mournful look before continuing down the pathway with her by his side. "Arwen will be pleased to see you."

Lireal snorted. "Hardly."

He chuckled. "No, truly, she will be."

It was then that she could hold back her curiosity any longer. "Where is Gandalf? He left me with the impression that we would meet here."

The elf lord shook his head. "I have seen no sign of Gandalf. From what the hobbits tell me, he never met with them at the Prancing Pony as he promised them. I am worried for his sake."

Then, after a moment of silence, quietly, "As am I."

Lord Elrond glanced down, but her gaze was focused straight ahead. It was unlike her to admit her concern for others, if there was even any concern at all. And yet, it was not so strange, for she was so much closer with Gandalf than any other; to hear her admit that she was concerned fit the person she used to be; the person that those who knew her wished she could return to.

"I will allow you to rest; it is a long journey from your home, and it seems to have been an eventful one, unless I miss my guess. You are in your usual room, for the sake of tradition." With a slight incline of his head, the elf lord left her there to attend to some important business; he needed to check up on the young hobbit in his care.

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Lireal wandered alone in the gardens for a long while the next morning, pondering over what little information she had managed to get from Elrond. After he had left her, she had pulled her hood back up from habit before she had begun to roam. What she found surprised her. It was unlike the elves to allow this tree to die, here towards the center of the gardens. She ran her hands over the rough bark, thinking. She was interrupted by soft footsteps behind her.

"It is wonderful to see you again." A soft voice said.

Lireal turned and greeted the voice's owner. "Arwen, it seems you haven't changed."

The elf smiled gently. "I see you noticed; no matter what arts we put to it, it's still dying. Perhaps, you could, just one last time…?"

With a soft sigh, she returned to running her hands over the tree. Lireal paused, then nodded to herself. "Perhaps."

Arwen smiled again. That she should agree was…unusual. But then again, she was probably just wasting time waiting for Gandalf. The elven woman recognized that some small part of Lireal had remained the same, even as the rest of her froze over and drifted beyond their reach.

Lireal focused, reaching out with her heart for the music she knew was there. She gently began to weave notes of the world around her, focusing on the dying life before her. She needed to change the tune from one of dying to one of growing. So focused was she, she failed to notice the growing audience. She didn't hear the questions at the sudden change of language in the trees, or the soft gasps of fear and awe as her hands slowly began to sink into the tree as she lost herself in the music and the weaving.

It would be so simple to let go and float away, to let the beautiful music carry her away, but at last her will kicked in. She gently pulled back from the notes, and began to manipulate them, creating the desired pattern. Lireal slowly extricated herself from the life around her, turning to face Arwen….and the group of elves that had arrived and were watching, but she ignored them.

"It is done." The mahogany-haired woman said coolly.

Arwen smiled. "Many thanks, my friend. It is good to see you."

Lireal wasn't puzzled by this, because although Arwen had been watching her heal the tree for almost an hour, the elf was referring to the sudden change in attitude. With a soft 'hmph' Lireal strode away, leaving Arwen and the curious crowd behind.

She found a secluded spot in the center of a maze in a rose garden, and settled there quietly. Here was where she would sit, on a stone bench, until Gandalf decided to grace her with his presence.

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The next day, and Gandalf had still yet to make his appearance. Lireal returned to the secluded are she was yesterday, the morning passing away quietly. Unfortunately, her peace was disturbed by two small children. Or at least, they looked like children. They were short with curly light brown hair, barefoot with hairy feet. These two were practically identical, and both were rather loud. She then recognized them as hobbits, most likely the ones from the road.

However, as soon as they saw her, they went quite. Then, just as quickly, they were chattering again.

"Hallo there, I'm Peregrin Took, but you can call me Pippin." The one on the left said.

"And I'm his cousin, Meriadoc Brandybuck. Most call me Merry." The one on the right said.

She couldn't help the amusement she felt, as the two went on about the fact the strange riders stopped them on the way, and they wondered which one their new friend was. These two, whom she met only moments ago, were threatening barriers put in place for centuries.

"What's your name?" they both asked at the same time, smiling.

"Nobody of importance." She replied, not in the mood to give her name away.

"Well then, Nobody, have you been to Rivendell before? Do you like it here?" Pippin asked, curious.

She shook her head. "I have, and it is…nice, I suppose."

The two shared a glance, clearly expecting a better answer. With a shrug, the pair turned away, heading back the way they came. She sighed softly, pleased to at last have some peace and quiet when….

"Are you coming?" Merry wondered.

With a growl she stood up, stalking after the hobbits, extremely displeased about the whole turn of events. It was then she heard a familiar voice, and she honed in on it. And there, around the corner, was Gandalf, speaking to another light-haired hobbit.

"_Grey One, I have been waiting for you." _She said irritated at his late arrival.

He blinked in surprise, before turning to her with a chuckle. _"You have never been one for patience. I heard that you did quite a surprise act of kindness."_

"_It was nothing more than a way to distill my boredom at having to wait for you." _Lireal growled, displeased at the implications of his statement.

He full out laughed this time. _"So you care nothing for the tree your father himself healed all that time ago?"_

"_Coincidence, nothing more." _She replied, the two conversing over the heads of the hobbits.

"As you say." The wizard said, slipping back into common. "I suppose the Council has been postponed until Frodo wakes?"

She shrugged. "I know not, and I care not. I was merely waiting for you, Gandalf."

He shook his head. "Naturally. You're only here for amusement and the possibility that a certain other might make an appearance."

Lireal's eyes hardened as she corrected Gandalf. "_Already has. On the road, __**they**__ tried to ambush the hobbits and their companion."_

This immediately caught Gandalf's attention. "Perhaps you had best explain." He glanced down at the curios little hobbits who were listening to every word, even if they couldn't understand them. "Later."

The dark-haired woman nodded. _"It seems that I underestimated the desire for power in my prey."_ She couldn't help but add.

With that, they parted ways, Lireal slipping back to her secluded hideaway, and Gandalf and the hobbits to the infirmary to visit their injured friend.


	3. Games

**A/N: Third Chapter! Man, I am on a roll! Thank you to my reviewer, ****CJShortz****, for well, reviewing. As to my response: Yup, I know. The mystery just adores killing people. My thanks also to my followers and favoriters. **

**Hey, I can see all you people looking at my story and not reviewing. Do I have to set my pet tiger on you? 'Cause I will. Be afraid. Be very afraid.(except for you, my one, awesome reviewer.)**

**Something weird has happened since I started this story…..I can't stop listening to ****The Voice**** by the Celtic Women! As for the reason why…I can't tell you because I don't know….but I think it involves my character….**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything but my character.**

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The Council was to be held in 3 days' time, the young hobbit finally having woken. Lireal sat in the silent place she had essentially claimed as her own, with only a pair of hobbits popping up to bother her every now and again, and the occasional visit from Gandalf. However, this day she would go to them, Lord Elrond had asked for a private meeting with her, and she guessed Gandalf would be there as well, most likely due to what she had told the old wizard recently.

She had yet to remove her cloak and hood except for those few moments in which Elrond had looked upon her. Her reasons were that she simply preferred her privacy, and that the cloak hid the weapons she carried, despite being in what most would refer to a 'safe haven.' Lireal was no fool; those that hunted her, even as she hunted them, could easily enter this place without suspicion.

She ignored the stares as she strode down the halls to Elrond's private study. She eased the door open, slipping quietly inside. Those that were waiting for her glanced to her for a moment. As she had thought, it was Gandalf and Lord Elrond, no others. After she ensured the door was closed, she inclined her head in greeting.

"Gandalf tells me that you have grave news." Elrond began.

"Indeed. Though, I am surprised you have heard no mention of it before." Lireal said.

Elrond raised an eyebrow, while Gandalf blinked in recognition.

"The hobbits mentioned being stopped by a cloaked rider, before yet another interfered. Perhaps you can enlighten us?" The grey wizard inquired.

The dark-haired woman nodded. "That is so. I was riding to Rivendell when I sensed the blood traitor near the shadow of the Ring. I managed to divert _**their**_ attention to me, and drive _**them**_ off the road so that the group could pass in safety from the traitor."

Immediately, both men frowned. The idea that their friends' worst enemy and prey was so close was disturbing, especially because they knew the true depth of what exactly they were dealing with.

"I will leave now, and return in two days' time for the Council; knowing that my enemy prowls just beyond the borders of Rivendell unsettles me." She continued.

The response was immediate. "No. You mustn't go, not yet. Wait until the Council ends, then take your leave. If you were killed or severely injured and could not attend the council…there would be extreme consequences. We need you there, alive." Gandalf replied.

With a growl, she fought back. "I cannot remain here knowing the blood traitor is within my reach! If I do nothing, _**they**_ will be free to wander. I can't allow that!"

Lord Elrond inhaled heavily through his nose. "You must. We are in dire need of your assistance in this matter; you have no choice but to remain."

It was then she began to lose her temper. "And you think staying in close vicinity to the Ring is any better to my health? Gandalf, you know the shadow that holds my heart! Do you truly believe this is wise? The least the blood traitor can do is kill me, but the Ring twists and binds. Let me leave!"

The old wizard gave her a sad look. "You know as well as I that that is not the truth. The blood traitor can do as much as the Ring when it comes to binding and breaking. We need you whole; and encounter with the blood traitor would not leave you so."

The elf lord reiterated his opinion. "I know of this shadow is of which you speak, but Gandalf is right. The two are equally dangerous to you. I realize that having the completion of your quest so near pushes you, but a different quest, one that has just begun and is nowhere near completion is in need of you. We ask only that you remain until after the Council; let the rest of your decisions be made afterwards."

At last, the dark-haired woman reluctantly gave in to their reasoning. She knew that both sides were right in a way, but Gandalf could make it difficult to refuse if he wished. Being one of the few who remember the creation of the Ring, the events that took place there, it came with obligations to now share that knowledge so that the shadow rising in the East could be destroyed once and for all.

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She paced restlessly. How was she supposed to waste two days with the blood traitor so close and not hunt them down? With a irritated sigh, she turned away from her secluded hiding place and began to make her way through the gardens. It was then that she stumbled upon a pleasant distraction. Training grounds; the perfect distraction.

She darted back to her room and picked up her bow before she returned to the area. There wasn't anyone else about as she checked the tension of the string before placing the arrow to the bow. She took aim, her stormy grey eyes focused on the target on the opposite end of the field. The arrow whistled softly threw the air before sinking into the center with a soft thump. There was no satisfaction in a single shot. She pressed the fletching of the next arrow against her cheek before she released it. This one, too, landed in the center, infinitesimally to the right of the first arrow.

She had cycled through her entire quiver, and had just finished collecting her arrows, retreating to shoot again, when another approached the archery range. Lireal didn't spare him a glance as she strung the next arrow. Before she could draw, whoever it was approached her and cleared their throat. She ignored them, pulling back on the string before the arrow flew. Dead center, yet again. This was starting to get boring; she needed a challenge of some sort.

The person beside her cleared their throat once again. "Pardon me."

She turned to glare at them for their unwelcome interruption. The elf couldn't see her eyes under her hood, so he couldn't see the anger lurking there. He didn't appear to be anything more than your average elf, with blue eyes and long blonde hair. His quiver rested on his shoulder, while his bow rested in his hand.

"Do you mind if I join you?" He asked politely.

"What do I care?" she retorted before removing the next arrow from her quiver.

The elf frowned slightly at her rudeness before taking up his stance beside her, aiming at his own target. His first arrow left his bow with a satisfying twang. She couldn't help it, her eyes followed his arrow. What better form of entertainment than to antagonize an elf?

"Upper right." She said calmly, before releasing her own arrow into the center of the target.

The elf's expression when she was right was positively amusing. He narrowed his eyes at her, as he prepared for his next shot. She gave a small self-satisfied smirk. Predicating others was far more difficult than knowing your own. Though his arrow was only a little towards the upper right, she was still right.

Even as she readied for her own shot, she watched the path his second arrow took through the air. "Lower left."

Now the elf was practically glaring at her. His shots weren't very far off center, but enough so that it was obvious she was correct. She would have snickered, but that would reveal just how entertaining it was, and then it would be like talking to a rock. She had to seem calm and totally unconcerned. Lireal knew that this was guaranteed to get under the elf's skin.

And so the game continued, the elf would fire an arrow, and it would promptly land wherever Lireal predicted it would, and then she would fire her own shot, always landing dead center. It was taking all her might not to chuckle, while the elf was clearly about to reach the end of his patience and was practically glaring daggers at her.

Eventually, she grew bored of the game. Just as she was turning to leave, Gandalf arrived, even as she called out where the elf's last shot before she left was going to land.

"Dead center."

It did, the elf's eyes widening marginally. It was the first time he had hit the center the entire time, which was highly unusual for the skilled archer.

Once Gandalf realized what game she had been playing, he burst into laughter. The already irritated elf glared at him, wondering what was so funny. The old wizard merely shook his head, still chuckling. What a nasty trick.

Lireal walked away with a smirk. After all, what fun is a game if you don't cheat?


	4. Sparring Match

**A/N: Fourth chapter. I must be really bored to be writing this much. I've spent the entire summer with writers block, and now the words won't stop flowing! AGH! Happy medium, please! Thank you to my lovely reviewer, my only reviewer, my….precious…reviewer. I love you.**

**My tiger tried to eat me! So I gave him a bowl of barbeque chicken. Guess what happened. Yup. He layed on my feet. My feet. Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that is? DO YOU? In other news… **

**I think my condition is escalating. Now I can't stop listening to the Celtic Women in general. Once again, I have my suspicions that it might involve you…**

**Lireal: Don't blame ****me**** for your problems; I've got enough of my own to deal with.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, only my character.**

**Response to ****CJShortz: ****I was indecisive about that. At first I thought, Leggy torture, and then, I was like…random elf torture! And at the end I decided that it was officially Legolas torture. Oh, and the tiger-it's a he. And he is currently shoving me off my bed. Pampered cat. You are awesome. Yes, yes she is. It wouldn't be any fun if she wasn't (who wants to write about a wuss? No offence intended).**

**This is officially my longest author's note ever. I try to keep it to thanking my reviewers(reviewer) and the disclaimer…but I just can't seem to stop rambling….**

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She sighed, bored out of her mind. Yesterday she had played the game with that elf again, enjoying it extremely. She hadn't bothered today. She just wasn't in to mood to play with the wind to push his arrows to land where she wanted. Annoying an elf was only entertaining for so long, you know. Now she was sitting in the middle of what would be a practice field, if anybody bothered to show up to spar. True, she could practice on her own, but that's not nearly as amusing as taunting some poor idiot trying to beat her skull in with a sword.

A soft rustle caused her to look up. It was only Gandalf. She gave a cranky bored growl and ignored him. Normally, she'd speak to him, but unless he magically whipped out a sparring partner for her, she wasn't in the mood. Especially not after the little incident in Elrond's study. She still hadn't forgiven him for that.

"So, you are still displeased with me? And after all the trouble I went to too…" his voice trailed off.

She fought to restrain her curiosity, but it was a losing battle. "What are you rambling about, old man?"

The old wizard chuckled, knowing very well he had caught her full attention. "I've arranged for you to have a sparring partner. Though, he doesn't know it yet."

Lireal smirked. Another game she loved to play. "Excellent." And she excelled at it.

Gandalf chuckled again. She was so predictable, even when she wasn't. After all this time, she still retained her sense of humor, even if it was a bit twisted. He had asked a friend of his to join him at the training grounds, and he had every intention of helping to relieve Lireal's boredom. Though, his reasons were purely selfish. She was just absolutely horrible when she was bored, and he needed her to be at least reasonable for the Council tomorrow. He knew that her game of pestering the elf would only last so long; he guessed she would wish the show off her skills in a different field, and he was right.

Lireal impatiently waited for the wizard's friend to show his face, too eager over the relief of her boredom to care who it was. If it was that elf she had been bothering…all the more fun. The thought brought another smirk to her lips. Lately she seems to be more…pleased than usual. Perhaps her decision to come here for amusement was a good one, even if there would be no fun and games tomorrow.

At last Gandalf's friend appeared, ignoring the spectator, going straight to the wizard. She recognized him from a glance upon the road; he was the man that the hobbits had been traveling with.

"Gandalf, what did you need from me?" the man asked quietly.

The old wizard nodded. "I thought it was time to introduce an old friend of mine."

Lireal took this as her queue to walk over to the pair. She inclined her head to Gandalf. What she didn't know is that the man recognized her, to a degree. A friend of his had mentioned a hooded and cloaked stranger that had been irritating him for the past two days.

"This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And this is an old friend of mine." Gandalf introduced the pair.

Lireal raised an eyebrow at this. The old wizard was up to something. Her name was a dead giveaway. Perhaps he had some reason for secrecy. With a shrug she went along with it.

The man nodded. "Was there anything else you needed, Gandalf?"

He shook his head. "Only, Aragorn, that it seems that both of you were looking for a distraction of some sort, and since you are both skilled in arms…" his suggestion lingered in the air as Aragorn sized up his opponent.

With a half-smile Aragorn replied: "I see no harm in it." He disappeared to fetch his sword, since, unlike her, he hadn't been carrying around Rivendell with him.

While she waited, Lireal paced around Gandalf. The old wizard only chuckled. Her hands occasionally drifted to the twin swords strapped to her sides. When Aragorn returned, he called out to her, standing at the center of the field. She walked over, nodding to her opponent.

Both drew their swords, and the battle began.

The man lunged for her stomach, but she danced away. With a graceful motion, her swords cam twirling in from opposite sides. He managed to deflect both blades, but only just. Aragorn swung, aiming for his opponent's throat. She lightly spun away. Rather than attack, she simply stood there, waiting. The man thrust for her chest, and this time she raised her swords to block. While one sword held his at bay, the other came leaping up from below, heading for his throat. He leapt back, managing to keep his balance. Once more, Lireal held her strike in order to see what he would do. The man was wary now, and rather than leap forward and spear his opponent, he began to circle. She willing joined in the dance. The two circled, a million openings, but neither struck.

Lireal couldn't help it-this man was actually fairly skilled-she was smiling. It was too long since she had met a worthy opponent in a friendly spar. And what's more, they had an audience, even if only one member of it knew she was toying with her opponent. Several elves had gathered, amongst them, she noticed, the one she had played her little arrow game with. They mostly seemed to be betting on the man. She would simply have to fix that.

They were still circling. Patience had never been a virtue of hers, and tired of waiting, she took a risk. With whirling turn, she spun out, one blade aimed for his chest, the other, his head. The second blade came only moments after the first, and he struggled to parry in time. Her smile reappeared. Leaping away, she landed cat-like on the balls of her feet. She bounced for a moment before she lunged again. This time, both of her swords shot forward, side by side. The man easily blocked this, but before he could retaliate, her swords came sweeping in from the sides again. Rather than parry, he jumped beyond her range. Her swords slithered over each other and reversed direction to settle at her side as she dashed after her retreating opponent. He held his sword in front of him, warding her away. Aragorn made a last desperate slash for her head, which she slid under. Their bodies were mere inches apart, but her slim blades maneuvered easily in the confined space to cross over one another and came to rest on his shoulders.

Aragorn nodded, recognizing his defeat. Lireal stepped back, still smiling slightly. They both sheathed their swords before they grasped one another's forearms in a warrior's handshake.

Gandalf chuckled. She had drug it out quite a bit, but he could tell that she approved of Isildur's heir, not that she needed to know that yet…


	5. The Council Of Elrond

**A/N: Whoo. Three updates in one day. (at this rate it might be four). I just am so in love with this at the moment, I can't do anything else. Thank you to my lovely reviewers! (Woohoo! I can finally use plural without lying!) You guys rock!**

**The tiger is full… for now… Maybe I'll just give my psychotic pyromaniac friend back her flamethrower…she has ways of finding people that don't review…threats are simply my way of showing my love to you guys by forcing you to write your opinions in that little box down there and clicking that little blue button…**

**Boredom…the ultimate update motivator…but reviews help a lot…I think half the time I just want to see you guys' reactions…**

**This chapter is a combination of the book and the movie-though I'll probably mostly be using the movie except where I disagree on some points or I need extra dialogue.**

"_Reminder: Italics=ancient tongue, NOT Elvish!"_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings.**

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Lireal paced restlessly. Only a few hours until the Council. The question was, what was she going to do until then? She began to wander aimlessly, and found herself before the tree she had uncharacteristically saved. She gently placed her hands on the tree, checking to ensure that it was still growing. It was prospering now. She nodded in approval before turning away, about to start wandering again.

A dark-haired hobbit chose to make his appearance then. He made no movement to approach her, so she turned to leave. Unfortunately, two certain someones' were following him, explaining what he needed to do at the Council. Lireal stiffened, before continuing on, praying that they didn't see her. She had no such luck.

"Ah, there you are." Lord Elrond said.

She did not reply, and stepped in a direction away from the three.

"Perhaps you could be of some assistance." Gandalf began.

Silence reigned, and she once again stepped away.

"This is Frodo Baggins. He is one of those you helped on the road." Gandalf attempted to catch her curiosity.

"So? What does that mean to me?" Lireal retorted, responding at last.

Elrond tried a different tack to get her to stay. "I would thank you for what you have done here. It is a comfort to know that it will survive."

She stiffened at this mention of her rare act of kindness. What were these two up to?

Before she could scurry on her way, the hobbit spoke up. "Gandalf has spoken of you; I am most glad for your aid on the road."

Now they were thanking her! She couldn't stand it! She sent a baleful glare to the two elders, knowing perfectly well they were behind it. Once again, due to her hood, no one could see it.

"It wasn't for you; don't thank me." She said coldly, at last making her escape to a less populated area.

Make that a deserted area. No doubt everyone was preparing for the Council. With an irritated sigh, she settled onto a nearby fountain, not minding the slight damp. What was that grey wizard up to? She got the feeling he knew she would be there, and that he started that entire conversation for a purpose.

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The Council had begun at last, all the representatives sitting in a circle. Frodo sat beside Gandalf; across from them was Aragorn; Elrond sat in the center near the door; to his right sat the elves and the dwarves; to his left sat the men. Lireal was seated between two groups of men about four seats away from Gandalf. She noticed her elven friend was seated directly across from her. The Council had begun.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old; you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it; you will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Now, things shall be openly spoken that have been hidden from all but a few until this day. And first, so that all may understand what is the peril, the tale of the Ring shall be told from the beginning even to this present. And I will begin that tale, though others shall end it." Elrond announced.

Then all listened as Elrond told them of Sauron and the Rings of Power, and their forging in the Second Age of the world long ago. And also he spoke of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men, and that fateful day in which the Ring was cut from Sauron's hand, and Isildur kept it, leading to his death.

She remembered well that final battle, she had been so young back then, fighting beside-no, she mustn't think about. She wouldn't think about it, but she remembered.

He then had Bilbo tell of his part in the finding of the Ring, and Frodo tell his dealings with it. Many stared in wonder at these two little hobbits. Last to speak was Gandalf, filling in the gap between the Ring's losing and its finding. He told the story of the creature Gollum, and the betrayal of Saruman.

At last, Elrond said: "Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

The hobbit reluctantly stepped forward, placing the Ring on a pedestal in the center of the circle. Instantly a wave of murmurs swept through the gathered people. Lireal watched warily, the idea of this as a sort of amusement gone. She felt then the evil of the Ring, heard its twisted whispering; it said many things to her, but she paid them no heed.

One man spoke up. "It is a gift, a gift to the foes of Mordor." He rose, standing before the Council. "Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy; Let us use it against him!"

Aragorn interrupted. "You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

Lireal silently agreed. She had seen the destruction of the shadow; such an arrogant man could not wield it without tragedy.

"And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" The southern retorted.

The elf she had played her game with stood up. "This is no mere Ranger; this is Aragorn son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."

The southern turned in surprise. "Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

The elf continued. "And heir to the throne of Gondor."

He won some of her respect for that. She would have defended him herself, perhaps, if no other stepped forward. She was no fool. But it seemed that the son of the Steward was.

Aragorn quietly asked in Elvish for Legolas to sit down.

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." The man said arrogantly before returning to his seat.

"Aragorn is right; we cannot use it." Gandalf finished before another argument could breakout.

Elrond rose. "You have only one choice: the Ring must be destroyed."

"What're we waiting for?" One of the dwarves grumbled, approaching the Ring with his axe in hand. His intentions were clear. Elrond rose to stop him; before he could do so the dwarf sent his axe down onto the Ring. The axe shattered, sending debris flying everywhere. A sharp piece scratched Lireal's newly healed cheek. The dwarf was lying on the ground from the force of the explosion before his comrades helped him back into his seat.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess." Elrond said sternly. His eyes glanced about, and she swore that they settled on here for a moment before focusing forwards once more. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from which it came. One of you must do this."

Queue silence before the storm.

The Steward's son, Boromir, spoke up once more. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with 10,000 Men could you do this; it is folly."

"Have you heard nothing of what Lord Elrond just said? The Ring must be destroyed." Legolas repeated, rising.

"And I suppose that you think you're the one to do it then!" Gimli snapped.

Boromir stood. "And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

The dwarf rose as well. "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

Everyone stood and started arguing then. She sighed. They really had to bring that silly old feud into this? The only ones still seated were Aragorn, Elrond, Frodo, and herself. Gandalf was attempting to be the voice of reason, but Boromir was speaking over him. The elves and dwarves were going at it hammer and tongs, just because they were elves and dwarves.

It was then she noticed something; the little hobbit kept sending her pleading glances. And what's more, they were the kind of glance that made her into pathetic mush. She had always been weak to those looks, especially when-no, don't think about it.

She quietly made her way to stand behind the Halflings chair. He clearly wished to speak and could not be heard over this ruckus. She paused, thinking. There were two ways to get them to shut up: hit the Ring with her knife, or shout.

If she hit the Ring with her knife, there would be a bright light, but her blade would be intact. However, she would then be expected to deal with the Ring due to a visible resistance to it, when in fact she was probably one of the most vulnerable ones here to its affects. Option number two it is.

"Hey." She said normal volume.

"Hey." She repeated herself slightly louder. All this fighting was starting to give her a headache, and she was getting fed up with it.

"OI!" She shouted. Everyone turned to look at her, and indirectly, Frodo, whose chair she was standing behind.

He stood up bravely. "I will take the Ring to Mordor." His voice trailed off. "Though, I do not know the way."

She took this opportunity to slink back to her own seat.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf said.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." Aragorn knelt before the hobbit. "You have my sword."

The elf approached them. "And you have my bow."

"And my axe." The dwarf stepped forward, never to be outdone by an elf.

The southerner gazed at them thoughtfully. "You carry the fates of us all little one. If this is the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

It was now Lireal became aware of the glances Gandalf was sending her. Hopeful, proud little glances. He wanted her to join them.

She would rather go to Hell.

"Hey!" a voice shouted, a hobbit popping out of the bushes. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me."

"Nor indeed is it highly impossible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not." Elrond said. He seemed amused.

The hobbit blushed a little.

"Oi! We're coming too!" the two rascals, Merry and Pippin darted out from their hiding places.

"You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry declared.

"Anyway, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest…thing." Pippin said.

"Well, that rules you out, Pip." Merry joked.

Elrond was clearly contemplating Merry's suggestion.

It was then that Gandalf called out to her.

"Darkhunter, _come, we will be in need of your assistance."_

The Council fell silent, wondering who the old man was speaking to.

"_You know as well as I that I cannot; I have been away from my own duties far too long already."_ She replied.

The old wizard, as usual, refused to take no as an answer. "_Come now, surely your mission can wait longer? Will not your prey come after the Ring?"_

"_I will follow you, but I cannot go with you. I need to have my freedom to protect you from the blood traitor; they would not trust me if I vanished constantly."_ Lireal reasoned.

"_I wish that you would."_ He sighed, then nodded to Elrond.

"Nine companions; so be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring." The elf lord declared, somewhat dramatically.

"Great." Pippin smiled. "Where are we going?"

The rest of the Fellowship looked at him in disbelief, while Lireal gave a small, invisible smile.


	6. Setting Out

**A/N: Chapter six! Yeah! Thank you to my reviewers. I'm rewatching/rereading the series now, even though I know it by heart. And no one will watch it with me because I know every line, and they can't ask a question without getting a long speech on this, that, or the other thing.**

"_Reminder: Italics are ancient language, not Elvish!"_

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. Only my character is mine. And I don't own the music either.**

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Lireal stood at the gate, preparing her horse for the journey ahead. Not far away, the Fellowship was starting to gather. Just as she was about to mount and ride from Rivendell, Gandalf approached her.

"I take it you are leaving then?" He said.

"Aye. I have been away from my duties far too long. I must complete my mission." She replied.

The old wizard nodded. "But of course. Though, where do you head now?"

Lireal shrugged. "I follow a course not of my own making."

Other members of the Fellowship approached them. They were clearly curious as to what was happening. She ignored them in favor of speaking to Gandalf.

"The sooner this is over and done, the better off things will be." She continued.

Gandalf grimaced. "I wish you would not push yourself so. Surely it can wait a little longer?"

"No. Many days have I wasted already. I wish you luck on your journey, but now I must begin mine." She answered.

The old man sighed. Stubborn as always. "_Speed to you then, our protector hidden in the shadows."_

Lireal couldn't resist the small smile tugging at her lips. "_Our paths may cross again. I will join you only at the very end of need. Farewell."_

She could put it off no longer. She mounted her horse, nodding to Gandalf. He stopped her by resting his hand on her knee.

"Be safe, Darkhunter. I expect you to return in one piece." He chuckled softly, ruining the serious moment.

"When am I not?" she retorted.

She then urged her horse forward, and he launched himself away. He ran lightly down the path, fast as the wind. She had left before the company, but she would be following them. For her enemy followed them, and she must follow her enemy.

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The Fellowship watched, listening to Gandalf's exchange with the man he called 'Darkhunter.' The hobbits were especially curious about the stranger.

"So his name isn't Nobody?" Pippin wondered.

Gandalf shook his head. "Of course not, you fool of a Took."

The hobbit shrugged.

Frodo turned to the wizard. "Who was he, Gandalf?"

He chuckled. "That one? Darkhunter is an old friend of mine. I've known that one since he was but a child."

"What did you say to him? I've never heard that language before." Merry inquired.

Gandalf smiled. "That was an ancient tongue, known only to a few; that was the language he was raised to speak. As for what we said, that is between Darkhunter and I."

The curious hobbit pouted, unhappy that Gandalf did not fully answer his question.

It was then that the entire Fellowship gathered, and Elrond said farewell. Their journey had begun. At first, Frodo lead the way, but he quickly fell back and let Gandalf have the lead. Almost immediately, those of sharper senses amongst the group felt that they were being followed. Those being the Ranger, the Elf, and Gandalf; though unlike the other two, the wizard knew perfectly well who was following them.

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Lireal had been waiting for them in a hidden dell, just a ways off the road. She had sent her horse away, and would go on foot. When they had walked by her, she had waited until they were nearly out of sight before she followed them. She knew that the one she hunted would attempt to approach them eventually, drawn by the shadow of the Ring. She followed the Fellowship tirelessly, guessing that if she left them that the one she seeked would appear.

Her hopes were answered. She came upon her enemy.

"You. Blood traitor." She spat.

The figure turned to look at her. Long blonde hair waved in the breeze, and dazzling blue eyes shined out. The woman before Lireal smirked.

"It is good to see you again, little sister." The woman said.

The dark-haired woman snarled. "I'm no sister of yours. Traitor. I will kill you."

Lireal without hesitation attacked the woman, even as the woman attacked her.

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The Fellowship were just beginning to set up camp when they heard a metallic clash in the distance. Gandalf immediately frowned, but said nothing. He knew what was happening in the forest; his only worry was that it would end the way it had been ending for years.

The others were unsettled by noise and its proximity. The Ranger wished to search out the source of the racket, but was surprised when the wizard stopped him.

"We mustn't interfere. Darkhunter would be…angry." He explained.

"Darkhunter?" Pippin said, puzzled.

Gandalf nodded. The entire Fellowship glanced at one another, trying to understand what the grey wizard was saying.

At last, with nothing more forthcoming from the old man, they returned to their duties. Some would wince when they were particularly eerie sounds. Every now and then the clash of metal and rumble of magic would be pierced with a shout; the elf occasional heard faintly a fell voice on the air, reciting some dark magic. None of the Fellowship understood why the old wizard had refused to go to the aid of his old friend. Even after the sun set, the dreadful noise continued for another hour before suddenly, there was silence.

Every member of the company caught their breath at the sudden lack of sound. Gandalf shifted, before rising from his seat on a rock. He pursed his lips and whistled, sharp and high. For many long minutes, there was nothing but the wind. And then, an answering note. Moments later, a figure stumbled toward Gandalf.

"Bastard…traitor…escaped…" Lireal panted, staggering towards the wizard, her blood staining the ground. Her knees wobbled, but did not give out.

The old man rushed forward worriedly. "I feared as much." He gently placed a hand on his friends arm, guiding the cloaked figure towards where he had been sitting but a moment before.

During the fight, her hood had been knocked back, her features revealed in the flickering firelight. This jarred the rest of the Fellowship into action.

The wizard slowly eased his dear friend down, kneeling beside her so that he could tend to her wounds.

Lireal weakly shoved him away. "I can take care of myself."

Gandalf shook his head. "No. You are in no condition to be left to your own devices."

The dark-haired woman growled at him, but didn't try to stop him as he examined her injuries. There was a deep slash in her right thigh, as well as a peppering of burns in both her forearms, and a growing bruise across her stomach.

With a sigh, Gandalf bandaged her as best he could. "_You should be more careful. What would I do if you died?"_

"_Clearly, you would find someone else to pester."_ She hissed as he tightened the wrapping around her leg.

"_Silly fool, there is no other like you, with your bloodline. Now you shall simply owe me a favor, and I think I will have it from you now."_ He grimaced as blood seeped through the newly bound injury.

Lireal snorted softly. _"What would you have me do, O Almighty Grey One?"_

He couldn't help but chuckle in amusement at her tone. "_Sing for me, little dove."_

As soon as he said those words, she stiffened. She hadn't been called that since the day the traitor became a traitor. Little dove…that's what _**he **_had called her. And that demand…only Gandalf and _**him**_ had ever had the nerve to ask such a thing of her. She had always refused, and she always would…except they had ways of convincing her.

"Never." She snarled.

The entire group was taken aback by her tone; the wizard had aided her, and she dared to speak to him like this?

The old wizard himself only laughed. "Have we not had this agreement before?"

"Yes…but only because you make such foolish demands." She growled.

"I hardly think it foolish to ask such a thing of you; but a small favor. Why do you not simply get it over with?" He chuckled.

Lireal snorted. "I assure you, I won't do it."

"Such a cowardly act, refusing to do such a simple task." He continued slowly.

Her eyes narrowed in anger. How dare he imply that she was a coward! She would simply have to prove him wrong.

Gandalf didn't even blink at the glare she was sending his way; he had won. Her pride wouldn't allow such an insult to go unchallenged. He had told her what to do to prove him wrong, and he had all confidence she would do it.

"I hear your voice on the wind;  
And I here you call out my name.

'Listen my child', you say to me;  
'I am the voice of your history.  
Be not afraid, come follow me;  
Answer my call and I'll set you free.'

I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain;  
I am the voice of your hunger and pain;  
I am the voice that always is calling you;  
I am the voice, I will remain.

I am the voice in the fields when the summer's gone;  
The dance of the leaves when the autumn winds blow;  
Ne'er do I sleep throughout all the cold winter long;  
I am the force that in springtime will grow.

I am the voice of the past that will always be;  
Filled with my sorrow and blood in my fields;  
I am the voice of the future;  
Bring me your peace;  
Bring me your peace and my wounds, they will heal.

I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain;  
I am the voice of your hunger and pain;  
I am the voice that always is calling you;  
I am the voice.

I am the voice of the past that will always be;  
I am the voice of your hunger and pain;  
I am the voice of the future;  
I am the voice."

Her voice was high and clear, floating on the wind. The entire company stared in awe. When she was finished, she turned to glare at Gandalf. The wizard laughed in triumph.


	7. Revelation

**A/N: Hello one and all! Thank you for reviewing my story you guys! The song last chapter was 'The Voice' by the Celtic Woman(women?). **

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, only my characters.**

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The Fellowship stared in puzzlement as Gandalf laughed after a song that rivaled the elves in beauty. What was so funny?

"Now, that wasn't so bad was it?" He chuckled

"You always ask for such foolish favors." She replied.

He merely shook his head. "Not foolish at all. How long do you plan to linger?" He inspected the bandaging, trying to give her a hint.

"I leave with the sun; I wasn't the only injured one. That traitor will not have gotten far; I'll find them." She said.

Gandalf sighed. "Of course." He seemed to think for a moment. "How rude of me. It seems proper introductions are in order."

Lireal frowned slightly. He was evading the topic, but then again, he knew her pride was injured over the fact that the traitor got away…again.

"This is an old friend of mine; Lireal Darkhunter." He explained.

The mahogany-haired woman inclined her head to them. Her eyes roved over them as Gandalf introduced his companions. Some were already known to her, while others were newly met.

"What is the meaning of this, Gandalf? Surely this is some kind of joke! Women should not be fighting!" Boromir demanded.

That he should refuse to speak to her, and addressed the wizard irritated her to no end. She was already frustrated as it was. The man unfortunately became a new way for her to vent her anger. She reached forward grabbing his collar, and nearly lifting him off his feet. This was quite a feat, seeing as she was a couple inches shorter than the southerner.

"Are you implying that I am weak?" She growled, eyes narrowing. Her dark grey eyes flashed, filled with rage.

"Women are to tend the house! Not to-" Whatever he was going to say was cut off as she snarled at him.

"Lireal." Gandalf called softly, trying to calm his friend. "Lireal."

She ignored him.

"_Come now, little dove. Let him go. Take out your anger not on innocents."_ He said.

The familiar old nickname caught her attention. Lireal looked to Gandalf. He shook his head, and she turned to glare at the man one last time before she let go, shoving him away. The wizard sighed. She was going to be so unruly now. Her injured pride and self-loathing was going to be overwhelming.

Pippin couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "How did the traitor become a traitor anyway?"

Silence dragged on for several minutes before. . .

"Blood traitor." She snarled, any composure now long gone. "Betrayed the blood through blood."

Gandalf sighed, knowing what was coming. Lireal stalked away, quickly fading into the shadows beyond the firelight. "Where are you going?" He called after her retreating figure.

"_Clearly I am welcome here no longer. I will seek shelter elsewhere. It was good to see you again, my old friend. Do not summon me except at the end of need."_ Was her reply.

She settled down high in the branches of a tree, perfectly comfortable in her perch. Lireal planned to rest for a day, then catch back up to where she could follow them closely, waiting for her next opportunity to destroy her traitorous sister.

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After her last words had faded into the night, the Fellowship turned to Gandalf, only to find him muttering under his breath.

"Foolish child." At first they thought he was speaking to Boromir, but then: "Do you not see what you are doing to yourself? The longer you cling to despair and grief, the deeper into shadow you fall. To take guilt upon yourself where there is none; to lay all the blame on innocent shoulders; to refuse the aid offered to you; what are you becoming? You are doing exactly as your enemy desires. Can you not see? Our deepest wish is to see you become yourself again."

"Gandalf?" Frodo called out softly.

"Hmm?" The wizard answered.

"Who is she?" He asked wonderingly.

The old man glanced up with a sad smile. "She is Lireal; what else is there to it? So grim even as a child; always has she dressed as a man, with a sword in both hands. Raised to be proud, but not arrogant or cruel; to know every fiber of her own being, with no room left for doubt."

"Surely everyone must doubt themselves sometime." Sam commented.

The wizard chuckled softly. "Yes. But until the traitor betrayed us, she had no cause to doubt her own strength."

"What happened?" Merry inquired.

"We were betrayed; there is nothing more to it than that." He responded.

Boromir shifted. "What did she mean when she said 'blood' traitor?"

The old man looked sad. "That one committed the worst crime imaginable; betraying one's own blood, through blood. All because their desire for power, and a fear of what she might become."

"Still, I don't understand this 'betraying blood through blood', Gandalf." Frodo said.

"The concept is simple enough; betraying your own blood, your own kin, through blood." The wizard explained.

And suddenly, they understood. Their eyes widened in horror.

"Gandalf, you don't mean…" Merry's voice trailed off.

With a sigh, he sat back down. "Yes. I am afraid that is what happened. Lireal by some miracle survived, though her wounds were grievous. But I fear it is no physical wound that will bring her to her end; it is the wound caused by that betrayal, and what that entails. She has deluded herself into believing what happened that day was her own fault. She was away, you see, and when she returned, the attack had only just begun; she did all she could to save them, but it was not enough. She believes that if she was stronger, faster, that none of this would have happened."

"But it's not her fault. If anyone's, it's the traitors, isn't it, Gandalf?" Sam mumbled.

"Yes. But she cannot see that; yet that is the reason she hunts the traitor so avidly. The only reason she stays near to us is because she suspects that the traitor will make an attempt for the Ring, and clearly she has been proven right. However, as long as Lireal is about, I doubt the traitor will get within a league of us." The wizard sighed again.

The elf stared hard into the shadows where the woman had disappeared. "Why did the traitor betray them? Is that what has made her so cruel?" He was referring, of course, to the incident with the arrows.

Gandalf's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Cruel? Ah, that." He chuckled. "That was a game that she and another used to play long ago; though it was hardly fair for her to spring it upon you." He paused, thinking. "As for why we were betrayed, I think it is fear that lead to this mess; the traitor feared Lireal's power, feared who she might become if left unhindered, untainted. That combined with unwavering ambition."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Frodo asked.

Gandalf heaved yet another sigh. "No. At least, not in this moment. She needs her space to clear her head. The traitor's escape injured her pride, as did Boromir's, and my own, comment about her being weak."

Quietly, the Fellowship went to their rest. Each of them was left wondering about this strange person who seemed to be both a friend and an enemy.


	8. A Secret Revealed

**A/N: Hi! Thank you my beautiful reviewers! (little cousin, I will get you for that.) I must admit your responses are part of the reason this is going so quickly. You inspire me! **

"_Italics=ancient language."_ (Interesting fact: Only about 5 people actually know/speak this language at the moment in the story.)

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. Only my characters.**

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Several days had passed since she had left the Fellowship and vanished into the night. As hard as she tried, she could find no trace of the traitor. This irritated her to no end. She remembered the exact injuries she inflicted; the traitor shouldn't have even been able to walk. Yet her searching turned up nothing.

She sat down under a tree with a growl. Lireal turned to glance up at the sky, and noticed a dark splotch. It couldn't have been a cloud, but what was it? It was closing quickly now. She tugged on her hood to ensure that it covered her features. She recognized them now. Crebain, from Dunland. They swarmed about her, cawing harshly. The dark-haired woman guessed that they were looking for the Fellowship. Gandalf was no fool; they would not be caught by such means.

Lireal rose, heading back into the Plains of Hollin, which the group had entered this morning. It was there on the border, she found what she was searching for. With a smirk, she followed the trail with all speed. It ended in an empty place, nothing but the plains. She frowned, looking about her. She heard a growl behind her, and spun about. It was a trap. She thought belatedly.

"Damn."

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The Fellowship had been resting when a mysterious figure appeared on the plain nearby.

"Darkhunter?" Frodo wondered.

Before they could greet the coming person, the wizard stopped them.

"Something is amiss." He muttered, staring at the figure. They were hooded and cloaked, as Lireal always was anymore, but something was still off. He stared, trying to see, when there was a tiny flicker of black fabric beneath the cloak. She hated the color black, which means…

The old man squared his shoulders. "_You are not welcome here, traitor. How did you slip past our defender?"_

The figure cackled madly. "Let's just say my little sister is a bit…distracted…at the moment."

There was a shiver amongst the company as they realized who this must be. They all reached for their weapons. Suddenly, not far to the West, there erupted a loud serious of roars and shouts. In their distraction, no one saw the stranger move. Frodo gave a strangled cry as the person was but a few paces away. Everyone put themselves between the hobbit and the traitor.

Abruptly as it started, the ruckus to the West fell silent. They all shifted slightly, half-expecting Darkhunter to come bursting onto the scene. When this did not happen, they wondered what had happened.

The figure chuckled menacingly, even as a sudden blast of wind removed her hood, revealing a woman's face. Boromir growled in surprise. What was with these women and not doing their duty? Her blue eyes were filled with such a gentle malice, the companions were uncertain. Surely their friend was far more threatening than this so-called traitor. And so the seeds of doubt were planted.

"_Gandalf, give it to me. Your precious little pet is ruined, now hand it over!" _There was no mistaking that tone, though they couldn't understand the words, they got the general meaning of the statement.

"I refuse to believe it." The wizard growled.

It was then the brush to rustled and parted revealing a monstrous creature. It was black as pitch, and its eyes glowed a dark red. Its maw was hanging open, revealing black teeth sharp as razors, stained with blood. Its claws too were coated in the red substance. Its three pronged tail lashed the air behind it.

It was then the Fellowship noticed something limp hanging from its jaw, before the monster spat it upon the ground. They were several half-strangled gasps and cries as they recognized Darkhunter. She was badly wounded, and seemingly lost. The traitor strutted over to stand above her victim. It was then that the tables were turned, as the creature mysteriously flopped over, revealing that it had been disemboweled. The supposed corpse sprang up, her twin blades driving easily through her enemies' stomach.

The traitorous woman only smiled before she brought the black staff that had appeared in her hand down across Lireal's skull. The dark-haired woman didn't even flinch, but slowly stood; drawing her swords from what should have been a corpse. The pair both backed away from the other. The sorceress just called up dark swirling hands, which she formed into a single great hand which was intended to crush Lireal. Darkhunter brought her swords before her, crossing them. The Fellowship wondered what good that would do when the black hand flew at her. The swords suddenly glowed, but while the light was weak and flickering, it managed to fend off the dark magic.

It was then, once the dark hand had vanished, that Lireal leaned forward slightly, sheathing her right hand sword in favor of a throwing knife. With a single fast motion, there was a silver blur before the blade embedded itself in the traitor's shoulder. This motioned jostled loose a small fine chain about their friend's neck, and the pendant slithered out. It hung there, spinning, as Lireal straightened before charging at the dark mage. That moment had been enough for some to recognize the pendant.

Even as her blade bit flesh, her other hand shot out and grasped her dagger, jerking it from her foe's flesh before sinking it back in on a different spot. Before Lireal could back away and prepare for another attack, the traitor began to dissipate in a foul black smoke. The dark-haired woman snarled angrily at this retreat, but could do nothing to stop it.

Slowly, she turned to face the Fellowship. Her eyes landed on Gandalf first.

"_It seems I have become as bad as you for being late."_ Was all she managed to say before she slipped into unconsciousness, her body falling forwards.

The elf dashed forth and managed to catch her before she hit the ground. He knelt there staring at her injuries.

"Will she survive, Gandalf?" The Ringbearer worried.

The old wizard gave a sad smile. "Yes. She will not allow herself to die until the traitor has been defeated."

Gandalf, with some help from other parties, managed to bandage her satisfactorily. "She probably will wake in a day or so." He commented.

"What will we do until then?" Sam asked.

"We keep traveling. That one will most likely make an appearance again, and staying in one place for too long would be too tempting a chance to pass up." The old man explained.

Without another word, Aragorn lifted the prone woman and proceeded to carry her as he followed the others. After a few hours of this, the elf offered to take a turn at it, and the man handed her over. They traveled until the sunset, and then they made camp.

"Gandalf, I noticed this before but…what happened to her other injuries?" Frodo inquired.

"Hmm? Oh, she heals far faster than any other. That's why she'll wake so quickly." The wizard chuckled.

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While her sleeping body was completely still, deep inside there was another battle occurring. The guilt had always taken a toll on her spirit, and now it was deepening.

I was almost too late to save them…She thought, her heart secretly aching. She may seem cold and harsh, but they were starting to grow on her, much to her chagrin. Caring for others only led to pain, and yet she still couldn't stop herself from doing precisely that. She would protect them, she decided. She would not fail this time. No, this time, she would save them. Yes…she would save them, and she would destroy the traitor…and maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they were before all of this.

She relaxed, and fell into sleep. Her dreams were haunted with memory however, and simply kept repeating the events of that cursed day over and over again, with the traitor cackling madly in the background.

"You will never be able to stop me…you killed them, not I…you will be the one to destroy the Fellowship…" the words kept repeating over and over, the voice of the betrayer ringing in her head.


	9. History Lesson

**A/N: Hello my loyal reviewers and readers! I hope you guys love this so far! Remember, reviews motivate me!**

**And for those of you who were wondering, the story image is supposed to be a picture of Lireal without her cloak, even though her shirt is actually a lot lighter color.**

"_Italics are…well, you guys should know by now, but…they are ancient language."_

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, only my characters.**

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There was a problem; a very large problem. Gandalf need Lireal moved, and she was still unconscious. The hobbits couldn't possibly move her, the Dwarf was plenty strong, but too short, and Aragorn and the Elf had gone to fetch firewood. That left Boromir. He was already ill-disposed towards the woman, despite her prowess. She was rude and cold, and made no sense what so ever.

When the wizard began to get more insistent, he surrendered and picked her up. Unfortunately, she started waking up. Her gaze was fuzzy, and the hair length and color was the same, she relaxed thinking he was somebody else. Something niggled at the back of her mind though, so she forced herself to look closer. Wait, since when did he have a beard? It was then she recognized the man.

With a howl of rage and shock, she twisted and flipped out of his arms. Boromir didn't even try to stop her. He was relieved to get the wild woman out of his grip. The sound had brought the Elf and the Ranger rushing back, only to find Darkhunter glaring at Boromir and Gandalf and Gimli laughing. Slowly, the pair realized what must have happened and chuckled.

She was still hollering at him in her native tongue. "_Stupid creature, what did you think you were doing?! How dare you put your filthy hands on me!"_

These comments were what kept Gandalf chuckling. Lireal hated being touched without her consent; that's why she made it so difficult for others to treat her injuries. He guessed that if it had been any other, she would have been slightly calmer, but she didn't trust the southerner, thus…well, this.

"_I won't tolerate this any longer! Grey One, I am leaving!" _This announcement was followed by a serious of unintelligible comments.

The old wizard shook his head. "_You are in no condition to do anything of the sort. Stay and rest for a while."_

"_NO! You can't do this to me! I'm leaving and that's that!" _She growled.

With a sigh, he stuck out his staff and tripped her. The only reason he could do so was the fact that she still couldn't see straight. She just lay there on the ground, face down for several moments before she simply rolled over onto her back. Lireal glared at Gandalf, clearly displeased with this development. Or rather, she glared at what looked like the wizard. No other would dare come near her, much less trip her.

"I'm over here." The old man called her glare from the elf to him. "And that is why you are going to stay here. You can't even see and you were going to leave behind the only help you'll find around these parts?"

She huffed as she sat up. "How could you tell?"

"It took several moments after you woke up before you seemed to realize exactly who it was. That, and you actually tripped over the staff. You'd normally just leap over it, and the only explanation would be that you couldn't see it, and that would only be possible if you were still a bit addled after that crack to the head." The wizard explained.

The dark-haired woman had nothing to say to that.

"That pendant, how did you get it?" Aragorn inquired. Legolas too looked curious. They had recognized it, along with Gandalf, but the wizard already knew this.

She looked at them, "It's mine; I've always had it. My Father gave it to me."

"Then you are one of them? Truly?" the elf wondered.

"I am." She replied.

"One of what?" Merry asked.

"Her people are well known for being extremely talented healers." The Ranger answered. "Though how she ended up as a warrior is a mystery."

Lireal shrugged. "My Father was a master swordsman. He taught me everything I know."

"But if you're supposed to be healers…why would he be a fighter?" Sam questioned.

She gave a small smile. "The land is dangerous; that is no mystery. They needed protection, and my Father, and I, offered it."

They were all digesting this information, when a new fact made itself present: she had smiled. She _**smiled.**_ Gandalf had noticed, and he had smiled as well. She was changing, if she could smile, and begin to talk about what it was like before they were betrayed. No…she wasn't changing; she was healing.

It was then she pulled out the pendant, and it spun on its silver chain. The pendant itself was of a dragon with its wings spread, mouth agape, grasping a gem in its claws as it perched upon the hilt of a sword. The dragon's tail wrapped around the blade of the sword, which had a small gem embedded in the very tip of the sword. The larger gem was a sapphire, shining a deep blue. The smaller one was an emerald, glowing a dark green. Both gems seemed to hold their own light, rather than simply reflecting it.

Even the Dwarf made an appreciative noise. The necklace was well crafted, but was neither Dwarven nor Elven craftsmanship. It was equal to both; you could see the dragon's scales-it was accurate to the smallest detail.

"The Dragorlai made it; such was the skill of our people." Lireal murmured. She tucked the pendant back under her shirt.

Gandalf cleared his throat. "Yes. The Dragorlai are mostly known for their healers, but many of those are unparalleled craftsmen. There are a few who also choose the path of a warrior, such as Syrus."

"Who?" Pippin said, confused.

The wizard chuckled, but it was Lireal who answered. "My Father. His name was Syrus."

It was then they picked up on something. "Was?" Frodo asked.

Lireal turned away and didn't answer. She glared at nothing in particular. They could all practically hear the echo of the words 'betrayed blood through blood.'

Frodo visibly paled. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…"

There was no answer from the dark-haired woman. She was reminded every time she saw her reflection. She was the spitting image of her father, while her two sisters were identical to her mother.

The night was deepening, and slowly the Fellowship gave up hope of speaking to her again that day. They all settled down except for the person who had drawn first watch for the night. Even Lireal seemed to be resting. She was propped up against a rock, sleeping sitting up. How she managed this was a mystery. The person on watch, Legolas, wondered about this strange woman. She seemed so open with Gandalf, but she seemed to push everybody else away. And yet, today, she had told them a little more. It was probably the most he had ever heard her speak to anyone other than Gandalf in that other language.


	10. Hidden Power

**A/N: That's right little cuz. She ain't going to protect you; heck, she might even give me a hand so I'll stop pestering her. Thank you to all of my lovely reviewers. I'm glad you guys like it so much. **

**I may not be able to update for a little while because we are going to Canada to visit some relatives of mine and I don't think my mom will let me bring my laptop. It'll only be for about 10 days or so, since we're leaving tomorrow morning.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, only my characters.**

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Lireal had drawn the last watch of the night, but she had only gotten a watch due to Gandalf. Not that she minded. It's not like she was going to sleep anyways. She waited until the dawn was beginning before she made any move to wake one of the others. She approached the wizard first, waking him with a simple touch.

He smiled at her. "Morning."

"Indeed." Was her reply as she moved on to the nearest sleeping figure.

It was Boromir. She frowned, then nudged him awake with her toe. As soon as he seemed to be waking she moved on. Lireal gave a firm tug on the Dwarf's beard, which lead to him giving a loud yelp that woke the Ranger and the Elf. All that was left was the pile of hobbits. The dark-haired woman studied them for a moment before she decided on an approach. She reached out to shake the shoulder of the hobbit in the center of the huddle.

There was a flash of light and she hissed in pain, stepping away from them. Her leather glove was smoking. Lireal was grateful she was wearing it; otherwise she might have been badly burned. She must have touched Frodo. The Ring hated her, even as it tried to manipulate her. Her very nature rejected the Ring's shadow, thus the clash of light and darkness. She then left the pile of hobbits for someone else to awaken while she inspected the damage.

The glove was badly scorched, but it didn't seem to be burnt through, and there was no noticeable pain in her hand. She inspected her fingertips anyway just in case. Thankfully, it seemed the thick leather did its job. She tugged the glove back over her hand. Gandalf had taken it upon himself to wake the hobbits. Frodo had apparently been awoken by the jolt of the clash of the Ring and her general nature.

Her light had been almost entirely extinguished for many years now; ever since they were betrayed, and a shadow fell across her heart. She still apparently was light enough to produce such a shock against the evil of the Ring. The poor hobbit was looking around, before he took note of the scorched burn on his shoulder.

"What happened?" He wondered.

"I apologize; if I had known it was you, I wouldn't have gone anywhere near." She replied.

The others except Gandalf, Aragorn, and Legolas seemed puzzled.

"The very nature of the Dragorlai rejects the evil of the Ring; even were their heart to be shadowed, their blood still would fight against it." Gandalf explained.

She flexed her hand. It wasn't burnt like Frodo's shoulder, but she had noticed it was rather stiff. Then again, that might just have been the scorched leather. She eyed his injury. She had never been a great healer, but she had been taught the basics of the art; that was how she saved the tree in the courtyard. But trees were far easier to heal than people. What's more, the Ring wouldn't allow her anywhere near the little hobbit.

Gandalf inspected the burn. It was black and vile, and seemed to already be festering. She glanced at her hand, before setting it on the wizard's shoulder as she knelt beside Frodo. Carefully removing the burnt glove, she reached out as if to touch him.

"What're you doing? Won't the Ring stop you?" Boromir exploded.

Frodo watched with fear as her hand touched the burn. Instantly, she felt pain in her hand, but she didn't let it show. Lireal reached out, twining herself into the music of the world. She could feel the discordant jangle of his burn, as well as a heightened sense of the blackness of the Ring. The dark-haired woman didn't know it, but her features relaxed into a peaceful, calm expression, and she seemed to radiate a gentle power.

When at last she was satisfied the hobbit was healed, she backed away. She pulled on her glove, but she wasn't quick enough.

"Your hand." The young one said softly, drawing attention to it.

She turned away. "It is nothing."

Gandalf shook his head. "You're so stubborn. It's not that surprising really. An expected consequence of being near to the Ring."

The others all shifted slightly.

"Lassie?" Gimli called. "You didn't have to do that."

She turned back to face them. There was an unreadable emotion in her eyes. "Of course I did. I caused the problem, so I had to fix it."

The Dwarf grinned. "Well, I reckon that is kind of you, lassie."

Her face leapt to anger so quickly, it was shocking. "I didn't do it out of kindness." She snapped.

The old wizard laughed. She might seem as if she was about to rip their heads off, but he knew the truth. Lireal had always been terrible about hiding embarrassment behind anger. He was glad that she was beginning to bond with the others. The dark-haired woman would rather die than admit it, but she was lonely. The only companion she had really had recently was a doddering old wizard, who was rarely there. She needed some friends; even if it took a while before she would open up.

"It isn't funny, you old coot." She growled.

The wizard just shook his head.

The Fellowship broke camp and continued traveling. The old wizard spent the better part of the morning trying to convince Lireal to let him see her injury. It wasn't until they rested for lunch that she finally surrendered. When he saw it, he sighed. The burn didn't look as nasty as Frodo's had, but it was still fairly bad. The skin was an angry red and blistering. He wrapped it as best he could before she shoved her hand back into the glove.

The little hobbit cleared his throat to catch her attention. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

She didn't respond, but that was only because she was so flustered she couldn't think of anything to say. They didn't realize it, since she only frowned and turned away, but it sent the wizard into another fit of laughter.


	11. The Pass of Carahdras and The Secret Way

**A/N: Sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long. We just got back yesterday at like 7pm. After 10 hours in the car I was pretty tired. So I didn't type last night. Thank you all my awesome reviewers.**

**As for your question, NamewithNoMeaning (otherwise known as my little cuz), I'm not sure. I figured I'd find out what you guys would like. The question was whether or not this was going to become a romance. See, I'm fine with either path, but I haven't decided myself yet. It would be slow, since they have to be friends first. (Duh.) But even though I will take your opinions into account, I will probably do whatever I feel is the best for the story. And, were there to be a romance, I would still keep to the whole 'revenge on the traitor' storyline thing. Even I'm not sure what to call it. AND the romance will have to be logical, of course.**

**On to the story!**

"_Italics are Dragorlai language."_

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They had reached the foothills just this morning. Gandalf was leading them to Caradhras. Lireal guessed they were heading for the Redhorn Gate, since the wizard would never take the other path. Though, if memory served, once there was a secret path that wound through the mountains, but you had to enter her homeland first. Otherwise, you would never find the path.

Her land hung over and overlapped other lands. Few could find it outside of her people, existing the way it did. The land itself was hidden in the mist, even as they traveled now their feet touched the land of her birth. It was hidden by the rest of the world, but it was there. When it was first created, it was to serve as the Dragorlai's safe-haven from the Shadow.

The ground had become hard and rocky, as they were beginning to reach the end of the foothills and the foot of the mountain. They began the long journey up the Pass. The dark-haired woman moved lightly over the stones. She was as gracefully as any elf. Though it might have something to do with centuries of being a master swordswoman. Over the past few days she had grown comfortable enough around the Fellowship to no longer bother putting her hood up.

Gandalf recognized the sign of trust. Though it would seem insignificant to any other, it meant a great deal. You can't read a person's emotions if you can't see their face. As his old friend used to say, 'you didn't know a man until you knew his face.' And considering that friend was Lireal's father, it wasn't surprising that she should live by his wisdom.

Snow had just begun to fall, but the cold didn't really bother her. She was perfectly aware of it, along with the keening freezing wind, but she simply paid it no mind. Lireal noticed that the little ones were beginning to have some troubles, due to the fact that the snow was getting steadily deeper. And more was falling by the moment, along with the blasting wind. She was spared having to wade through it like the hobbits. While the elf didn't even leave footprints, she sank about 3 or 4 inches down. The Men, the Dwarf, and Hobbits had no such luck. But then again, neither did the wizard.

It was then that the snow turned into a full out blizzard with the wind whipping ice all around. She had been walking towards the front, with only the Elf in front of her. She glanced back over her shoulder, then stepped to the side to let Gandalf pass. He was breaking through the snow bank in front with his staff. The Men were carrying the Halflings, while they and the Dwarf waded through the chest-deep snow. It was then she noticed the thunder and lightning about the peak of Caradhras.

'This is no natural storm' she thought to herself.

It was then that it started raining rocks. Thankfully there was an overhang above the path and they all managed to get out of the in time. This reeked of sorcery. At first, Lireal thought that it might be the traitor, but when she sent out her senses, she couldn't feel her enemy. She frowned, but moved on, keeping up with the others.

She ignored the exchange between Gandalf and the Elf, figuring it to be unimportant. It was then with a strike of lightning that an entire mountainside of snow was falling towards them. Lireal leapt forward and grabbed the old man's robes, dragging him away from the edge. Legolas seemed to have managed to get away from the cliff as well.

The snow was heavy and she was suddenly aware of the biting cold. She pushed her way upwards without fear. She knew how she was going to die, and this wasn't it. Lireal was the first one up. The Elf popped up next. She figured the wizard would manage, so she decided to find the hobbits. She plunged her arm into the snow until her gloved hand found a shoulder. Firmly grasping the materiel of their cloak and shirt, she pulled them up. It was Sam. He seemed surprised, but before he could say a word she shoved him to Aragorn who had just appeared, clutching Frodo. Boromir had also fought his way out, and had Merry with him. The dark-haired woman frowned slightly, pushing her way over to where the Man had first appeared and began to look for the only one missing.

Pippin, the silly little hobbit that irritated her with his ceaseless chatter. It was then that the rest of the companions noticed their missing friend. Before they could begin to look for him, her hand came into contact with curly hair. She slid slightly to the side before reaching to grab the collar of his shirt. Lireal dragged the Halfling out of the snow, handing him to Boromir.

It was then that they began to argue. She watched as it went back and forth. Gimli suggested the Mines of Moria, and she growled softly. That place was dark and rank and foul. It was then she felt something at the back of her mind, something that she shouldn't have forgotten. Boromir was trying to get them to go South, when she remembered.

"_Gandalf! There is another way! We will have to pass through my land, but there is a secret pass. But I cannot guarantee that we will make it through!"_ she called out the wizard, shouting to be heard over the wind.

His face flooded with relief that there was another way other than the Mines. "_Tell them, little dove. Frodo will decide our path."_

She nodded. Gimli was arguing with Boromir when she smoothly cut in. "There is another way."

That shut them up. All eyes fell on the dark-haired woman. "A secret way. We would have to pass through my homeland, but there is pass through the mountains there. However, there is no guarantee that it hasn't become blocked; it has been many years since last I walked there."

"Let the Ringbearer decide." Gandalf announced.

He looked at his shivering friends before sending her a pleading glance. "This secret road, you can lead us there?"

"Yes." She replied softly.

Frodo nodded. "Then we will try this secret path; if that fails, we will go through the Mines."

They began their descent off the mountain. Once they were free of it, she lead them back across the plain a little ways, apparently searching for something. Gandalf too seemed to be looking for something. They all heard her mumbling to herself in her native tongue.

Abruptly, she stopped. "Here."

They all looked about, while the wizard nodded.

"There's nothing here!" Boromir exclaimed, frustrated. "I've had enough of this foolery! Let us take the South road to my city!"

Lireal ignored him, reaching out, entangling herself in her home. She stepped forwards, and with each stride she seemed to fade, as if surrounded by thick mist, before the woman disappeared completely. That silenced the complaints.

A soft, sibilant disembodied voice enquired: "Are you coming?"

Gandalf ushered them forward, and they slowly walked along the path their companion had taken. Each watched as the person in front of them vanished. Eventually they were all standing in a forest, surrounded by ancient trees. The Elf was looking about in awe. Even the Ranger seemed surprised at something. The others just felt a…strangeness.

They saw no sign of their companion, and Pippin, remembering the rescue in the snow called out. "Darkhunter? Where are you?"

That soft voice came again. "I am here. This place is as much a part of me as I am a part of it."

It was then that the very trees and air seemed to shimmer, and suddenly, she was there. There was something different about Lireal that they couldn't quite place. It was then they notice the thin silver circlet that had mysteriously appeared on her brow. Her eyes were the same cold stare, and yet, there seemed a new depth to them.

"It's so…" Legolas breathed, searching for the right word to describe it.

"Alive." They watched her lips move, and they recognized the voice as hers, and yet it sounded so different, as if she had changed.

The Elf nodded, seeing as that was the best word for it.

Gandalf smiled. "And now you begin to see the truth of Lireal Darkhunter. But this is only the surface."

They all stared, mesmerized, nodded thoughtlessly at Gandalf's strange words as they tried to pick out what was different about their friend.

"Who are you?" Boromir wondered.

Her eyes flickered amusement. "I am Lireal Darkhunter. I always have been and I always will be."


	12. Homeland

**A/N: Hello all! Thank you to my wonderful reviewers!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lotr, only my characters.**

**Random person: Inconceivable!**

**Yeah, in case you haven't guessed, I've been watching the Princess Bride. I highly recommend it. But I recommend reviewing my story even better! **

**Come on you guys! I've already got the next chapter up and you still haven't answered my question! If you want to know what the question is, go to last chapters' authors' note. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only person who reads these things…which is why I try to keep mine short.**

**NO. MORIA IS NOT THE SECRET WAY. Duh. Why would Gandalf be relieved? He doesn't want to go to the Mines. Sorry, but that was a…foolish…question, since stupid questions don't exist. I think…**

**Onwards with the story!**

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"I am Dragorlai; this is my birthright." The dark-haired woman said.

Her voice seemed to echo, and they listened as the trees around them whispered in the Ancient tongue.

"You may rest here; this is a safe place. The path is just here." She murmured.

The Fellowship stared in wonder; Merry alone seemed to have the courage to speak. "You're so different. What happened to you?"

She tilted her head slightly to the side. "Happened to me? Nothing has happened to me. I do not understand; I am no different."

They didn't know it, but being back here made her sad. It forced her to remember against her will. What with the trees ceaselessly mumbling about the tragedy and the fact that this place had been her home before she was betrayed. She didn't think she could stand to be here much longer and hoped that the Fellowship chose to move on. Gandalf gestured for her to lead the way. She turned and began to walk, with them all falling in behind her. It was then that Boromir noticed something.

"There's no path." He grumbled.

"Yes. There are no paths here; we have no need of them." She replied.

The wizard smiled slightly. "Consider yourselves lucky; you are amongst the few outside the Dragorlai to have walked in this wood."

They all nodded in amazement. The companions couldn't help it; they were impressed. Everything here seemed proud and noble and unbending. It was then that they began to hear something; a faint music carried to their ears by the rustling of the leaves.

Sam reached out and rested his hand on the trunk of a nearby tree. He was instantly pulled in by the beautiful music. His eyes glazed over even as his hand began to sink into the tree. His friends called out to him, but he didn't answer. It was then he noticed all the music seemed to be focused around something. Before he could explore more, a gentle voice invaded the music.

"_That is enough, Sam." _ It murmured.

He stumbled backwards, suddenly released from the tree and the music. The hobbit glanced at the others and shuffled his feet slightly before he turned to Lireal.

"That music…the wood makes it, doesn't it?" he wondered.

The dark-haired woman glanced at him over her shoulder. "No. The forest only makes audible what already is. The music coincides and twists within the very fabric of this world. It is by the merging and altering the music that the Dragorlai gain their power."

They were quiet, digesting that information. The Elf was falling in love with these strange woods. He couldn't help it; even his home wasn't as alive as this. The very air tingled with it.

It was then they came across a clearing. She abruptly picked up the pace, speeding through it. Unfortunately, Frodo happened to glance down and notice something. With a gasp he leapt back, bumping into Aragorn.

"The-the grass!" He stuttered.

The others looked and gagged in shock. The grass was the rust red of dried blood, save for a few patches of pitch black. Lireal had frozen in her tracks, but she didn't look at them. She couldn't bear it.

Gandalf sighed. "Yes."

Their minds were reeling. Why was the grass red and black? What had happened in this place? When they turned to ask their friend, they found she was still as stone, her back to them. Her head slowly sank down. She couldn't stand being here a moment longer. She stiffly walked away, not looking back, focusing on the ground beneath her feet. She let them take her where they'd will.

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The Fellowship turned to Gandalf for an explanation.

He sighed, looking extremely sad. "I believe she couldn't stand to be here another moment. This place….this is where I found her, you know. Right after…if I hadn't come, she probably would have died."

Instant recognition slammed through them. They all swallowed nervously. The Elf and the Ranger both muttered prayers to the dead in Elvish.

"So, you mean…this is where…" Pippins' voice trailed off.

The wizard could only nod.

"Why? If she knew the path would lead through here?" Frodo inquired.

"She can't stand weakness in herself or others. To have known there was a better way and to have said nothing would have been wrong." The old man shrugged helplessly.

That's when they all realized something. Their guide had disappeared, and unless Gandalf knew the way, they were lost. In a magic forest with no trails.

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She wanted to do…something. Her feet had led her to the one place she did not wish to be. She couldn't help it; it was too much for her. The guilt, anger, and sorrow were growing by the minute. Lireal was standing in front of a large white marble tomb. Her eyes followed the script on edge, above the doorway. It scrolled all the way around the building.

Her hand unconsciously came rest above her left breast. She could feel her heart beat, but that wasn't why her hand had fallen there. The ache seemed to be centered there. If she could just be rid of it…her hand clenched, fingernails digging into her skin even through the glove.

She began to mumble the words of the scripting to herself. She had written them, and they always weighed on her mind. "_But if I should become a stranger; it would make me more than sad. You have been everything I've ever had. And help me to be wise in times when I don't know. Lead me to place; guide me with your grace, to a place where we'll be together. Give me faith so I'll be safe. I'll hold you forever in my heart."_

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Gandalf heard her voice on the wind and managed to lead them to where she was. They instantly backed away, respecting her privacy. The Fellowship saw the tomb, and they understood what it meant.

"_Just like every child needs to find a place; a place where they can be safe. Give me faith so I'll be safe." _Her voice carried her grief to them.

Gandalf recognized it as the end of the inscription on the tomb. He hesitated, before he began to recite it softly in common. "But if I should become a stranger, it would make me more than sad. You have been everything I ever had. And help me to be wise in times when I don't know. Lead me to a place; guide me with your grace, to a place where we can be together. Give me faith so I'll be safe. I'll hold you forever in my heart. Just like every child needs to find a place; a place where they'll be safe. Give me faith so I'll be safe."

A soft ripple went through them when they heard that. Their movement stirred Lireal from her reverie. She turned to face them, and they were shocked to see no trace of tears.

"We have no more time to linger." Her voice was distant.

She led them to the edge of the wood, where mountains began to rise. The dark-haired woman began to follow some path invisible to the Fellowship. They were preparing to climb the first slope when Gandalf ordered them to rest. Lireal stared off into the distance the entire time and said nothing. In fact, she hadn't spoken since she had turned to them at the tomb. The wizard sighed. Just when she had begun to thaw, she froze right back over. She was even ignoring him.

He could only hope that it wouldn't last long. At last he got the Fellowship back up and she led the way up and through the mountain pass. Their luck was ruined. The way was blocked by several immovable boulders. She had stared blankly for a few moments before she had turned away.

So it seems that they would be going through the Mines after all.


	13. The Walls of Moria

**A/N: Alright guys! Thank you for reviewing!**

**To ****Lady Mariha:**** Agreed. Aragorn belongs with Arwen. I already have a general idea of who I might pair her with, but I ain't telling!**

**As for you, reviewer whose name shall not be mentioned: just because it is a female character doesn't mean she'll become a Mary Sue. Good grief. Secondly: I wrote Lireal's story long before I came up with this one. She was already an existing character with her own story that I have posted on Fictionpress. (Well, started anyway.) Which essentially means that at least her beginning character is set in stone. And believe me, she is far from a Mary Sue. I went to great pains to ensure that. You just ain't seen it all yet.**

**NO…school starts on Monday! Sorry I haven't updated recently, I haven't been sleeping well, so I am less inspired.**

"_Italics are Ancient Language." _"For this chapter, underlined words are Elvish."

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, but I do own my characters. (This is getting repetitive.)**

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"The Walls of Moria." Gimli said in awe.

They stood on the edge of a black lake that stretched all the way to the sheer cliff. The Fellowship began to make their way around the edge of the lake. When they came to a stop there was nothing but a blank stretch of wall between to old holly trees. Lireal remembered that the door was in the center of these.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gimli stated.

"Even to their masters if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf retorted.

That silenced him. She herself did not know the password. The doors had always been open the times she had been here before. That was years ago. Many long years ago. Before they were even betrayed was the last time she was here.

The old man ran his hands over the wall. "Ithildin. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight."

The clouds floated away from the moon. He turned back to the now glowing wall. "It reads 'Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter."

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry wondered.

"It's quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." Gandalf replied.

The wizard pressed his staff against the wall, chanting opening spells in many languages. The dark-haired woman settled on a tall rock, watching over everything. She frowned slightly when she noted Merry and Pippin chucking rocks in the water. There was something wrong about the black lake, thankfully Aragorn intervened.

"Do not disturb the water." He muttered.

Boromir was staring at the water, along with the Ranger, clearly uneasy. Sam was unpacking and removing the tack of Bill the pony. Her dark grey eyes skimmed over Gandalf, who had just given up on the door, Gimli and Frodo, who were watching Gandalf, and the Elf, who was leaning against one of the holly trees.

She too turned her attention to the water. Though the hobbits had ceased throwing stones, there were still ripples gliding over the surface of the water.

Frodo stood up, inspecting the door. "It's a riddle. Speak 'friend' and enter."

The hobbit turned to Gandalf. "What's the Elvish word for friend?"

The wizard looked up. "Mellon."

The doors silently opened. The wizard made a small noise of triumph. Gandalf stuck a crystal in the top of his staff as they entered the Mines.

"Soon Master Elf, you shall receive the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This my friend is the home of my cousin Balin and they call it a mine. A mine!" Gimli rumbled.

The old man had lit the crystal, which shed more light all about them. It was then that the Fellowship truly looked around.

"This is no mine;" Boromir muttered. "It's a tomb."

The hobbits jerked away from the skeleton at their feet. Lireal had tensed, both hands falling to her hips where her swords were sheathed.

Gimli stared in horror. "No. No! NO!"

The dark-haired woman shuddered slightly. A tiny bit of sympathy tugged at her heart.

The Elf plucked an arrow from one of the corpses. "Goblins."

He threw it to the side and put an arrow to the string of his bow, while Aragorn and Boromir both drew their swords. She gripped the hilts of her own blades.

"We'll make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here." Boromir said darkly.

Pippin stumbled over a skull as he inched backwards. The other three Halflings turned to help him.

"Get out of here. Get out!" The southerner shouted.

It was then that Frodo was grabbed from behind by a long, slimy tentacle. It dragged him towards the lake. The other hobbits called out his name.

"Strider!" Sam called out to him.

The Ranger spun about and saw the danger. Sam had hacked through the tentacle, and the rest retreated back under the water. She let go of her grip on her swords in favor of whipping out her bow.

The water exploded, a dozen more tentacles shoving the other hobbits out of the way before one latched onto Frodo once more. Lireal realized that the thing was drawn to the Rings' evil. The little Halfling was lifted up above the center of the lake before a second tentacle grabbed ahold of his arm.

The Men were fighting their way through to the Ringbearer while the Elf and Darkhunter shot any other tentacle that tried to grab onto Frodo. It was then that the creatures had appeared, as it dangled Frodo over its gaping maw. The dark-haired woman changed her aim, firing at the creatures head. Legolas followed suit.

Aragorn managed to slice through the tentacle holding the hobbit, and Boromir caught him.

"Into the Mines!" Gandalf shouted.

"Legolas!" The southerner called out.

"Into the cave!" The Ranger ordered.

The blonde Elf and the Dragorlai covered their retreat. Legolas managed to shoot it in its' eye. They all barely made it inside before the creature managed to pull itself up and out of the water somewhat, ripping at the doors, which gave way and shut them inside. She became aware of a hand on her shoulder, but it slipped away at the sound of the wizards' voice.

"We now have but one choice." Gandalf lit his staff once more. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world."

The Fellowship began to make their way up the first staircase. Gandalf was first, with the Dwarf behind him, then the Elf, next the hobbits, then Aragorn and Boromir. Lireal had pulled her hood back up and drifted through the shadows beside them, moving constantly from one side to the other without actually entering the light.

"Quietly now." The old man ordered. "It is a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed. Keep close."


	14. Dwarrowdelf

**A/N: Hey guys! So, new chapter! First official update since school has started! I love all my reviewers. Did I mention how motivating reviews are, even when I should be writing an essay or doing homework? Please! Type in the magic box! Push the little blue button! **

**Sorry, but EW! Never ever in a million years would I do such a thing. YOU know who you are, person who reviewed last chapter with that…suggestion…UGH!*shudders* Sorry. Nope. Never. In all eternity.**

"_You should know the drill. Ancient Language. No Elvish."_

**Disclaimer: I no own LOTR; only my OCs.**

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They were working their way through the long dark of Moria. Her count put them three days into the journey, more than halfway through the Mines. The dark-haired woman was uneasy. In the long silent darkness, one was left to their own thoughts. Thoughts that she wished would disappear, she tried to distract herself with menial things, to no avail. What was that old coot thinking? She was beginning to wish that she had insisted that they climb over the boulders. But wait, what was she thinking? Lireal should have never returned; at least, not until the matter at hand was solved.

There was more to it than that, however. She truly didn't want to return because of the memories that lurked there. Both happy and sad, she feared them all. But the only one she blamed and hated was herself; it was her fault. Even though she hunted the traitor vigorously, the one who had actually killed them, she knew she was to blame. If she hadn't been sulking in the hidden vale she might have been there to save them! Things might have turned out differently. And even though it was impossible, a secret corner of her heart hoped that with her revenge complete, everything would somehow magically return to the way it was. The more logical part of her recognized that you can't cheat death, but she ignored it.

If she gave up on that secret wish, she would lose her will to live. There was nothing else worth living for, worth dying for. Well, except for perhaps…no. That was impossible. They didn't know her; they didn't realize how tight the shadow gripped her. If they did, they would never accept her. And somehow, that need to be near others had wormed its way back into her heart.

Thankfully, a distraction came in the form of the group topping the stairs with ominous words slipping from the wizards' lips: "I have no memory of this place."

The Fellowship plus Lireal rested while they waited for Gandalf to remember. Sam was sleeping, while Aragorn sat beside Boromir, smoking; Gimli smoked his pipe as well, while Merry and Pippin whispered to each other about being hungry. The Elf stood beside Sam and Frodo quietly. The dark-haired woman had settled herself a few feet to the right of Gandalf, comfortably perched on an outcropping of rock.

Frodo moved to stand beside Gandalf. "There's something down there." He whispered.

"It's Gollum." The wizard replied.

"Gollum?"

"Yes. He has been following us for three days." The old man mumbled.

"He escaped the dungeons of Barad Dur?" The hobbit was shocked.

Gandalf turned to look at the Ringbearer. "Escaped…or was set loose?"

"He hates and loves the Ring, as he hates and loves himself." He continued. "He will never be rid of his need for it."

"It's a pity that Bilbo didn't kill him when he had the chance." Frodo muttered.

The wizard looked serious. "Pity? It was pity that stayed Bilbo's hand."

"Many that live deserve death; some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them, Frodo? Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgment." Gandalf focused his gaze on the Halfling.

This unintentionally caught her attention. She slightly felt he was implying her in that statement.

The old man hadn't finished his speech yet. "Even the very wise cannot see all ends. My heart tells me that Gollum has some part to play, for good or ill, before this is over. The pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many."

Frodo sighed, sitting beside Gandalf, seeming overwhelmed. "I wish the Ring had never come to me; I wish none of this had happened."

"So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide." He looked her way. "All that we have to decide is what to do with the time that was given to us." The wizards' attention returned to the hobbit. "There are other forces at work in this world, Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring; in which case you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought."

Suddenly, his face lit up as if he had been struck by lightning, while the poor hobbit seemed more confused than ever. "Oh. It's that way."

Everyone looked at the wizard.

"He's remembered!" Merry smiled.

The old man shook his head. "No, but the air doesn't smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

A small smile twitched at the corner of her lips at that. It sounded so much like him, to be wise one moment and childish the next. If one considered it, she was actually older than the wizard, though he had aged quicker. The first time they had met, he was already an old man, while she was still a child, even though she was twice his age at the time. So even though he made it sound as if he were the older one, that was not the case. She would have to remind him one of these days. After all, wasn't he always telling her to respect her elders? Lireal filed that thought away for later.

The Grey Wizard led the way into a great cavern. "Let me risk a little more light. Behold the great realm and city of Dwarrowdelf."

She didn't need it; she remembered well the hall, though back then it had been filled with laughter and good cheer rolling off a swarm of half-drunk dwarves. The dark-haired woman heard the shocked and appreciative gasps as those behind her took in the Great Hall. Even the Dwarf was shocked. It was then that she recalled his relative youth, that he had never walked the halls of his forefathers.

"There's an eye-opener and no mistake." Sam said in awe.

As they proceeded down the hall, she couldn't help but to rebuke them. "If you think it is grand now, you should have seen it when it was full of life. It is majestic, yes, but empty and hollow. Nothing more than a ruin of forgotten days. I remember when this place was full of life, even if it was mostly half-drunk Dwarves."

This earned a faint chuckle from everyone, but mostly the Elf. It was then that Pippin seemed to register something.

"You remember?" He seemed puzzled.

"I'd forgotten, you didn't know." Her grey eyes focused on him over her shoulder before sliding across all of their faces. "I'm older than Gandalf, technically."

Even Legolas seemed mildly surprised, but the rest were flabbergasted.

"You're joking!" Sam stared at her.

The dark-haired woman shook her head. "No. Even when we first met when I was still a child and he was already an old man, I was nearly twice his age; I simply aged so much slower, you see. We all do. That's the thing of having such a long life, I suppose. We have no need to rush through it, what with nearly all the time in the world."

"How old were you in the first fight with Sauron?" Merry wondered.

"I was the equivalent of being 14; still fairly young, but I insisted. War was nothing new to me; I had seen it before." She shivered slightly at the memories that were dragged up with that one. "Side by side…" she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else.

The southerner shifted uncomfortably. "How old were you when…I mean, how long ago…"

Lireal paused slightly in her stride, but otherwise showed no physical deterrent. However, when she spoke, her voice had the tiniest quiver to it. "I was 16 in the years of Men. She was too…No, I don't know how old the traitor was…we had rarely met, she is many years older than me."

"Who else was sixteen?" Frodo inquired.

"I was not an only child; nor was the traitor my only sibling." She explained. She had never thought about her under any circumstances. Every now and then she could think of Father and Mother, but never her.

Not another question was asked, clearly her response wasn't what they were expecting. She guessed they were slightly embarrassed at having dragged out the painful topic so long. The first part hadn't bothered her too much; it was when she really began to think of what happened that day that hurt.


	15. Demon of the Ancient World

**A/N: Hey guys, I love all my reviewers, and I apologize for the delay, but life happens. I'm now official a member of Glee club! Yay! This chapter is rather long, to say sorry for that! Next chapter-Lothlorien!**

"_Italics=ancient language"_

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, only my characters.**

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A few minutes after the conversation had died off, Gimli shifted.

"Oh!" He said as he ran towards an open door.

Light spilled out from it, and the Dwarf made a beeline straight to it, ignoring Gandalf when he called him back. She followed, slightly curious as to what it could possibly be. Now she was closer, the dark-haired woman could see that the door was surrounded by corpses similar to those in the entryway of the Mines, bodies of both Dwarves and orcs. Once she had entered the room, she noticed that the light was focused on a marble coffin.

"No." Gimli muttered. "Oh, no." He bowed his head, kneeling, clearly saddened. "No."

She leaned over and read the inscription. When you lived as long as she had, you learn a few languages. She was fluent in Elvish, Dwarvish, and many tongues of Men. Her heart fluttered slightly, not in sympathy, but empathy. She recognized the hurt of losing someone dear to you. Lireal shifted slightly, and rested her gloved hand on his shoulder. The others entered the room a moment later.

Gandalf recited the inscription for the benefit of those who couldn't read it. "Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead, then. It is as I feared."

The Dwarfs' helm hit the stone tomb with an audible clink, as the wizard removed his hat. A beaten record book caught his eye, and he handed the hat and his staff to Pippin before picking it up. Boromir placed his own hand on Gimlis' other shoulder, looking off to the side.

"We must move on; we cannot linger." Legolas said softly to Aragorn.

She nodded. "It would be unwise." She, too, kept her voice low.

It was then that Gandalf began to read from the book. "They have taken the bridge and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums; drums in the deep. We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming."

The ominous silence was broken by a loud clatter as Pippin curiously twisted an arrow shaft embedded in a body, sending the skull of the skeleton to go clunking down a hole that resembled a well. He turned, looking guilty, even as they all started slightly from the sudden noise. The rest of the body plus a chain and bucket followed after. The noise echoed about them, and the guilty hobbit winced with every bang. The Fellowship tensed, waiting, releasing a relieved sigh after a moment of silence.

"Fool of a Took!" The wizard reprimanded as he shut the book. "Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity."

At first it was faint, but it grew steadily. The sound of drumming, and that was shortly accompanied by shrieks.

"Orcs." The Elf spat.

Boromir rushed to the door, looking outside. He jerked back as two arrow shafts embedded themselves in the wood a few inches from his face.

"Get back, stay close to Gandalf!" the Ranger ordered before he went to help the southerner.

Together the two Men pushed the doors closed, and began to barricade it with whatever they could find, old spears and axes along with other debris from the previous battle. Legolas tossed them everything he could reach.

Boromir glanced back. "They have a cave troll."

The Men and Elf all stepped back, while the wizard and the hobbits drew their swords. She hesitated, one hand stroking her bow for a moment, before her hands came to rest on the hilts of her swords at her sides. She figured since Aragorn and Legolas were drawing their bows, there was no need for her to do the same. They would have to switch soon enough to swords anyway. The doors trembled as their enemies on the opposite side bashed against them.

"Let them come." Gimli roared. "There is one Dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath."

Boromir adjusted his buckler. An orc managed to poke a hole in the door with its spear, and Legolas fired through to the other side, slaying it. Aragorn killed another. Others soon took its place, beating down the door. It was then that the door gave way, orcs spilling into the room. Lireal unsheathed her swords, and they caught the faint light lingering on the tomb and shimmered, the mithril steel sharp.

All hell broke loose. Each fighter disappeared into the fray, every now and then reappearing. Even the little hobbits charged in, following Gandalfs' lead. The dark-haired woman was ripping through the ranks of foul creatures with ease; they posed little resistance to the war-hardened veteran. They couldn't touch her. Her swords were weaving and spinning so fast, they were only a blur, as they hummed softly.

The cave troll bashed through what remained of the door, demolishing a good deal of the ceiling above the doorway. It had a large stone club, and was led by a chain attached to its neck, currently in the hands of an orc. Legolas shot it, even as Sam dived between its legs, narrowly escaping its club as it came down. Merry and Pippin tugged Frodo away from the battle, hiding behind a pillar in the corner of the room. Gimli threw one of his throwing axes, hitting the monster in the chest.

With a soft hum of thought, Lireal decided to focus on the nuisance orcs first, then move on to the cave troll. According to her count, there were enough orcs here for target practice for all of ten minutes, and she felt that the others were more than capable of holding their own against the troll for that short period of time. The dark-haired woman was rather experienced when it came to trolls, and this one seemed to be a perfect example of the race: big, stupid, and blood thirsty.

The Dwarf was weeping even as he fought, the coffin having been smashed by the troll, which only proved its stupidity by taking out its own allies with sweeping blows going right over the head of the Dwarf. Gimli fell, but Legolas shot the huge beast, buying him enough time to regain his feet. She couldn't help it; she was smiling. It felt good to send her swords through any who stood before her; but what felt better was the feeling that somebody had her back; she wasn't alone.

Those words strangely continued to echo in her thoughts; she wasn't alone. It felt good, but there was something else there too. She growled when an orc managed to slice her leg, bringing her out of her thoughts. She shoved them to the side for examination later. Lireal continued her strange dance of death. She didn't realize it, but she would have enraptured the others if they hadn't been battling for their own lives; they had never seen her fight before. Even in her duel with Aragorn, she hadn't shown this much speed and skill; the Ranger was forced to admit that she had been toying with him.

It was then that there was a break in the battle, and she paused staring. The orcs stopped as well, several cheering in victory. For the first time in a long time, it felt as if there was a heavy weight on her chest. The cave troll had cornered Frodo, who, after Aragorn was knocked aside, was without protection. The creature pulled back, and she realized what it aimed to do. But Lireal was on the opposite side of the room; there was no way she could get there in time. For whatever reason, she tried. She shoved and pushed, but didn't make it. She could only watch helplessly as the troll drove a huge spear into the Ringbearers' chest.

The dark-haired woman's mind instantly flipped back the last time such a thing had happened; when the traitor had killed her twin sister. She had been fighting a demonic cat, and had been unable to reach her sister in time. Then she had been forced to watch as she slowly bled to death.

Something deep inside snapped; years of pent up rage and grief came crashing through. For a moment her limbs trembled with the force of the emotion. The world disappeared, hidden by a screen of red. She went on rampage then, slaying without even bothering to look at her enemies. Her only purpose was to kill the creature that had dared to harm someone who could only be called her friend. She wouldn't let such an insult stand; it was going to die, and it was going to die now. However, she herself never made it over to finish it off. The Elf shot it through the mouth, the arrow going straight through the trolls' brain. If it even had one, that is.

Lireal stood, chest heaving, the world still cloaked in red. She couldn't really see straight, and she felt no pain. She was far from lost, however. She was going to tear all of Moria apart and destroy every creature in it; they would all pay for the little hobbits' death. The Fellowship had converged on their fallen friend, and Aragorn, who reached him first, turned him over.

The hobbit moaned slightly, letting out a faint gasp. His breathing was labored, but he was alive. It took several moments for this to register in her mind. Even when it did, the rage still did not retreat. She mumbled her intentions to herself in her native tongue as she shifted closer to Frodo. Gandalf overheard, but was unable to say anything, so shocked was he by the miracle.

"He's alive." Sam said, relieved.

Once he had sat up, Frodo replied. "I'm alright; I'm not hurt." He reassured them.

"You should be dead." Aragorn murmured in wonder. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this hobbit than meets the eye." Gandalf smiled faintly, knowingly.

He shifted his shirt to reveal a sparkling shirt of chainmail.

"Mithril." Gimli gasped softly. "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins."

The shriek of orcs interrupted the reunion. Lireal smirked; they were coming to her.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dum!" Gandalf ordered.

He led them out at a run, turning to throw over his shoulder: "_You will not be going after them; do you hear me? There will be other opportunities to exact revenge. I expect you to lead them out, should I be unable."_

Her only response to that was to laugh darkly. The others looked at her strangely, but did not comment; they had learned to simply go along with her ways until they understood for certain what exactly she was planning. They had noticed something off about her; there was a strange wild light in her eyes, and her very nature seemed to have been darkened.

The orcs were gaining on them, and more were appearing, crawling from cracks in the floor and ceiling. Soon they were surrounded, circled completely with no escape. Her smirk visibly grew; they were making this too easy. Oh yes, she remembered what lurked in the shadows, and she would rip it limb from limb.

It was then that there was a loud rumble; the ground shook ever so slightly beneath their feet. The orcs looked about, squawking anxiously. With more loud squeals as the rumble returned, they vanished back into the crevasses from which they came. Back the way they came, the hall glowed slightly, almost as if there was a fire right around the corner. The Fellowship all drew nearer to Gandalf even as Lireal laughed darkly again.

"What is this new devilry?" Boromir muttered. The light was growing, getting closer.

Gandalf tiredly shut his eyes before reopening them. "A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world."

As soon as he said its name, the majority of them were nervous, but she saw true fear and recognition in the Elfs' eyes.

"This foe is beyond any of you." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "Run!"

The wizard led the way, his staff lighting the path. She was muttering darkly to herself, with every intention of stopping and facing the monster. She had had enough running; she wanted to destroy the creature that had caused so much pain. Even if that pain was not her own. She had seen it in Gimlis' eyes, when he found out his cousin was dead; she had seen it in Frodo when the troll had stabbed him; and she saw it now in Gandalf, as he felt he was the only one able to face the thing. But the wizard was wrong; she was stronger now.

Boromir, who was now in front of the group, nearly ran off a stair that dropped abruptly into a chasm. He would have fallen had Legolas not grabbed him from behind and pulled him back. Lireal took the lead as she ran down a staircase to the side.

It was then she heard Gandalf and Aragorn exchange words before he shouted after her. "_Lead them on, little dove. You know the way. The Bridge is near. Your swords are of no more use here; you know as well as I that you cannot face it. You must not turn back. Do not waste your life for petty revenge."_

She laughed darkly once more. "_You have not stopped me before; you will not stop me now. I can face it, and I will. You cannot make me go!"_

It was left at that as they continued to rush down the stairs. They stopped at a gap in the stairs. The Elf and the southerner had at some point passed her and were now in front once more. Legolas jumped the small gap easily.

"Gandalf!" He called, turning back.

The wizard leapt, and Legolas made sure his feet were firmly planted on the ground before turning back to the rest of them. It was then that they came under enemy fire, and Legolas shot in return. But for every orc that went down, two more took its place. Boromir grabbed Merry and Pippin and jumped across, the Elf steadying him. The stairs that he had been standing on crumbled, the gap now twice its original size. Aragorn tossed Sam across, to be caught by Boromir. The Ranger turned to Gimli.

He held up his hand. "Nobody tosses a Dwarf."

He jumped, and would have fallen if Legolas had not grabbed his long red beard.

"Not the beard!" Gimli shouted as he was pulled to safety.

It was then that the rock began to crumble beneath their feet. Aragorn pushed Frodo back, pulling himself after. Lireal launched herself as best she could off the unsteady stone. Strong arms caught her, making sure she was safely on the other side. She nodded her thanks to the Elf. She stepped out to the side, pulling out her bow and firing on the orcs that were still trying to snipe them down.

The gap was now quadruple(four times) its original size. The approach of the Balrog was shaking the foundation of the archway and ceiling, causing great pieces of rock to come falling down. One of these pieces impacted on the stairs behind Aragorn and Frodo, leaving them on an island of stairs. The pillar that supported the steps groaned, leaning dangerously to one side. The Ranger directed the hobbit to lean, balancing the stone, before they forced it to come crashing into their own piece.

Boromir caught Frodo, while Legolas had grabbed Aragorn. There was relief that every member of their party had made it safely across. And still Gandalf led them on, even as the chunk of stair crumbled into oblivion behind them. They ran through a hall edged with fire.

"Over the Bridge!" Gandalf directed them.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

**Hate me as much as you want, but, cliffhanger! If you press the magic button after writing in the magic box, I might be motivated to update sooner rather than later.**


	16. Lothlorien, Part 1

**A/N: Thank you all my wonderful reviewers and favoriters! Yes! One of the awesomest parts! Lothlorien! Haha! This chapter is going to be a bit different than the rest…**

**YOU NEED TO READ THIS: **

"_Italics=ancient language" __"Underlined Italics=Elvish"_

**I'm so smart…I mean, there has to be elfish in elfland.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, only my characters.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

"Over the Bridge!" Gandalf directed them. "Fly!"

The Balrog at last emerged from a wall of flame, the wizard turning to face it before following after. Lireal's pace flagged so that she was now running only a few feet in front of Gandalf. She would not allow him to face this enemy on his own. Her fear of losing him was too great. During the run her anger had faded, and she was herself again. Before she had defied him simply because she felt like it, but now that defiance was backed by an unease that something might go astray.

They had reached the bridge and were forced to go single file. Aragorn and Boromir ran ahead, with the four hobbits behind them, then Gimli and Legolas. The others all reached the other side safely, but stopped to wait for them. She stopped as soon as the old man did, turning back.

"You cannot pass!" The wizard shouted. "_Go back, little dove."_

The dark-haired woman shook her head stubbornly. _"No. I will not let you stand alone!"_

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried out, distressed.

"I am servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!" Gandalf raised his staff, unsheathing his sword as he was surrounded by light.

She felt a strong grip on her arm, pulling her away from the wizard. Her silver-grey eyes glared at the Ranger.

"Let him do this. It is his choice." He muttered lowly.

Lireal looked at Gandalf once more, but this time it seemed almost pleadingly. "_But…I must fight…I can't lose…I…"_

Her faint voice and the slight stutter betrayed her, even as she was unwillingly led to where the others were waiting. She hated leaving his fate in his own hands, she wanted to make sure the old man was safe. He was all she had left. She couldn't lose him.

The beast brought a great sword of flame down on the orb of light. There was a great flash, and the monster stepped back a bit, but it was only slightly stunned and would soon enough attack again. Lireal unconsciously gave a small mewl of distress.

"Go back to the Shadow." He commanded. "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" Gandalf slammed his staff against the ground, and there was a faint rumble.

The Balrog created a whip of fire, cracking it menacingly above the wizards' head. She snarled and lunged, but strong arms held her back. She ranted at them in her native tongue, demanding to be set free. The dark-haired woman didn't want to hurt them, but if that's what it took to get to her old friend, so be it. She could ask for forgiveness once this was all over.

The Bridge of Khazad-Dum creaked before giving way, sending the creature into the black depths of Moria. Gandalf turned to them, relieved. It was then with a last crack that its whip came flying up, knocking the wizard down. The arms constricting her loosened in shock, and she made her getaway, diving straight toward the dangling wizard. She was halfway there, when he let go, and she didn't catch his last words. She saw his mouth moving, but her mind couldn't register what he was saying.

Her body froze in place, she was to shocked to think, to move. Lireal faintly heard voices, but she couldn't hear any words. An arrow skipped off the ground beside her, but she still didn't move. At last, somebody grabbed her, dragging her away. She was too shell-shocked to resist. She stumbled along beside whoever had a grip on her wrist. Her senses had completely shut down. Her eyes didn't register the change in light, her eyes the change of sound, or her nose the change of smell. The dark-haired woman's body had essentially shut down, the shock too much for her.

Only three words rang crystal clear through her mind. She had failed. She was useless. She had failed.

Then, all of sudden, they stopped moving. She just stood there, not registering anything at all. Faintly she was aware that they were no longer in the mine, but she just couldn't bring herself under control. Her emotions slipped from her grasp. She had never cried, not even when she was betrayed, and yet, now, a single tear was sliding down her cheek.

It wasn't just the loss of Gandalf that drove her to tears; it was the loss of something tangible, other than herself, connecting her to the others she had lost. It was the loss of the ability of knowing she shared a grief with another, knowing they felt the loss as keenly as she. Lireal heard faintly a slightly familiar voice, but she barely understood the words.

"Legolas, Lireal, get them up." Aragorn commanded.

Her head moved with no conscious direction to turn so she could stare blankly, uncomprehending at him, while the Elf moved towards Merry and Pippin.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" the southerner cried.

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs." The Ranger explained. "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien."

He ran towards them. "Come, Boromir. Legolas. Gimli, get them up." He grabbed Sam's shoulders. "On your feet, Sam."

She felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. "We must go." She stared dumbly at the Elf, unable to form words. Her lips moved, but no sound came forth. With a gentle tug on her wrist, he pulled her in the right direction. Aragorn was leading them. She couldn't remember where. Lireal had sunk deep within herself, her mind overlapping and replaying two very separate moments of her life. The loss of her family and the fall of Gandalf tormented her, leaving her no peace. She couldn't pull herself out of her stupor, and so just stumble after the Elf, blindly trusting him to not lead her astray.

When she saw the forest, she recognized it, but she couldn't bring herself to the joy she should have felt to be going there. The dark-haired woman continued to numbly follow, her emotions still running amuck. A small part of her registered amusement when she heard Gimli, but it still couldn't break through the shock and sorrow.

"Stay close, young hobbits!" He whispered. "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods; an Elf-witch, of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell. And are never seen again."

The Dwarf continued. "Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox."

She nearly walked into an arrow that was pointed in her face. Normally she would not be so careless, but she really couldn't care less at this point in time. She hadn't noticed their approach, which was unusual, but she could barely think straight.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." A male voice said.

"_Haldir of Lorien."_ Aragorn greeted him. "_We have come here for help. We need your protection."_

Gimli grumbled uneasily. "Aragorn, these woods are perilous. We should go back."

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back." Haldir stated calmly. "Come. She is waiting."

The Fellowship and Lireal followed the elves, and eventually Haldir drifted back to her side.

"I haven't seen you in many years." He murmured softly, so that no one else could possibly overhear. "Are you well? You look…different."

She gave no response; she had yet to find her voice. Haldir muttered an apology and returned to the lead position. She saw the others awe at the city, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything more than apathy. They were left standing on a balcony, waiting for the Lord and Lady. When they appeared, the Fellowships' awe of the city was nothing compared to that of the site before them. Celeborn and Galadriel had descended hand in hand, both as elegant as ever. She couldn't help the small dash of anger at Galadriel; the two of them had not been getting on for some years now. Lord Celeborn and her father had been dear friends, as had her mother and Lady Galadriel. She had never cared much for Galadriel, but she and Celeborn were really only mutual acquaintances.

"Eight there are here, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell." He announced. "Tell me where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."

It was then that Galadriels' melodic voice rang out. "He has fallen into Shadow. The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail…to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the Company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest…for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you shall sleep peace."

Lireal turned to follow the rest when Celeborn added, "_You and I must talk."_

She paused, hesitating. "_Yes. But perhaps there is a better time than this?"_

"_Now."_ His voice was calm, but there was hidden emotion in it.

With a sigh she turned back to face him, even as those Gandalf had made her swear to protect were lead away. She didn't know, but some even glanced over their shoulders in curiosity and worry.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

When they were being led away, even as she was called back, Frodo looked back to her, shortly copied by Merry and Pippin. Aragorn and Legolas both also turned to catch a last glimpse of her fading grey figure surrounded by others decked in white.

"What do you suppose they want with her?" Sam wondered lowly.

Aragorn frowned, shaking his head. "I don't know."

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Lireal was quiet when she rejoined them in their glade. The hobbits had tried to wait for her but had fallen asleep. The others were still awake. Without a word, she continued on walking past them, disappearing into the wood. She did not return. The Men, the Elf, and the Dwarf conversed for a while before resting themselves.

"Ever since Gandalf fell, she seems to be very lost. It almost feels as if its taking all her will just to keep moving." Legolas murmured.

Gimli sighed softly. "Poor lassie. She was closer to him than anybody else."

"That isn't the entirety of it, I think." Aragorn replied.

Boromir snorted. "I doubt she's capable of feeling much of anything."

The others seemed surprised by this.

"Did you see her face when the troll stabbed Frodo? She seemed angry beyond reason." The Elf added.

"I think the lassie cares more than she'd like to admit, even to herself." The Dwarf chuckled slightly at this, before frowning. "She's taken it pretty hard. Don't think she ever really bothered to associate herself with anyone other than him; she really never paid us any extra mind."

Boromir snorted again. "She was only there because he made her stay."

The other three seemed puzzled by this.

"That first night, the two of them argued until almost midnight. I couldn't understand it until the very end; it sounded like she was promising him something. Probably not to slit our throats in our sleep or some such thing." He explained.

A dagger came flashing out of nowhere, embedding itself a good two feet above the southerners' head. The group started, turning to see the source. Lireal. Her face was paler than usual, and she seemed strained. She didn't come to reclaim the knife; she didn't even know what possessed her to throw it. The dark-haired woman had come back because she had belatedly realized that she had accidently walked past them.

She made a strange little noise in the back of her throat. She finally found her voice. "I never realized you thought so little of me." Lireal made the noise again. "I…I promised to protect you. He didn't make me do anything!"

She turned and ran away, her braid swishing lightly with each step. The noise escaped her again. She barely even recognized it herself; it was a half-strangled sob. She ran and hid in the secret place that she and her father used to share. She sat down at the base of a tree, staring blankly ahead.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Her announcement had shocked even those who had been speaking in her defense. Belatedly they called out to her, but it was too late; she was gone.

Legolas turned to Boromir angrily. "Look what you've done! Why would you say such a thing?!"

"Did you hear her? She was growling at us!" He retorted.

"No." Gimli shook his head. "The poor lassie was crying."

That froze the other three; they hadn't even noticed. All four of them paled visibly. Even Boromir, who didn't particularly care for the woman was rather upset; his upbringing would tolerate no such thing.

"What have I done?" he muttered softly.

Aragorn sighed. "There's no use looking for her now; rest, and we'll find her in the morning."

The others reluctantly agreed. They would find her in the morning and apologize.

What they didn't know was that it was nearly impossible to find her when she didn't want to be found.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

**Sorry, Boromir lovers, but the two don't get along. I hope you enjoyed it! You'll find out what was said on the balcony soon, I promise! Reviews make me update sooner.**


	17. Lothlorien, Part 2

**A/N: Thank you all my wonderful reviewers. Hey guys! I can't wait for you to read this! At last some of my ideas can be delivered! I have been thinking about this since the beginning of the story. Hope you enjoy! Warning: we'll probably be in Lothlorien for ****4**** or ****5**** chapters.**

"_Italics=ancient language. No Elvish this chapter!"_

***A four pointed star like the twinkles in the sky in Disney movies.**

**Heh. All shall be revealed in time.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, only my characters. **

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

At some point during the night, her exhaustion had at last caught up with her, and she had given in to sleep. Haldir had found her, but he didn't wake her. When he saw the companions later, at first he was reluctant to tell them, but their apparent worry convinced him to show him where he had found her.

When they got there, she was still asleep, and Haldir gracefully slipped away, leaving them alone. Her shirt had slipped off her shoulder, revealing a black star-shaped***** scar on the right side of her chest. Surrounding it were several rough lines, looking as if something had clawed her over the scar. Some of the lines seemed older, while others seemed newer somehow. The sight of it turned the hobbits stomachs, while the others were just shocked. All of sudden, she seemed so vulnerable, sitting there, sleeping.

They couldn't bring themselves to wake her, seeing as they hadn't seen her sleep once since they had entered Moria. They quietly sat down nearby, speaking in soft voices so as not to wake her. However, she soon stirred, her eyes open. She shifted, leaning over as she ran a hand through her hair, which was half falling out of its braid. It took several minutes before she seemed to notice them and stiffened.

Boromir spread his hands out pleadingly. "I am sorry; I shouldn't have said such things. Can you forgive me?"

"…forgive…" she muttered softly, frowning. Before she could answer, a little voice interrupted.

"How did you get that scar?" It was Pippin, who seemed to be caught in a mixture of horror and curiosity.

She jerked her sleeve back up, but her hand rested above the scar. Her fist clenched as her jaw tightened. For a moment it seemed as if she wouldn't answer, and then, slowly:

"I died that day."

The Fellowship froze in shock.

"Even though my injuries were twice as grievous, they still died from their wounds while I survived. I should have died that day, and in a way I did. It was all my fault; if I had been there sooner I could have saved them. If I had been there sooner, none of this would have happened." She seemed angry and sad at once.

"They weren't in the way! She could have just killed me! She should have! That traitor should never have dragged them into this! But she did…but she did…" her voice shrank at the end.

She had never spoken to them about what had happened that day; what little they knew had come second hand from Gandalf.

Softly, in a wavering voice, she told them the full story of what had transpired that day.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

She had been away, and had just returned home. She found her family gathered around her elder sister, who had been gone all these years.

"I never expected you to return." Lireal said softly.

Rosalund just smiled at her younger sister. "Yes, well, I had something very important to do here."

She cocked her head, arching an eyebrow. "What business would that be?"

Her mother shook her head. "You should be glad to see your sister."

Rosalund's smile grew. There was something sinister about Lireal couldn't explain. "Yes, dearest, you should be glad to see me." Her voice was mocking.

The older woman stepped back. "Alas, it is time to part."

A dark blurry cloud appeared low to the ground at Rosalund's side. The black cloud solidified into a _tetsherur. Tetsherur _were large demons with poisonous teeth and claws, their blood was acidic, and their black pelt was armor-like. The creature sprang, jaws snapping wildly. Her mother and sister fell back, allowing the two warriors to step forward. Father and daughter drew their blades as one. Then the depth of Rosalund's treachery was revealed. Dark creatures sprang from the forest, attacking the four. The traitor herself had disappeared in a swirl of purple smoke. Her mother fought bravely, but a spear found her lung. Her twin kneeled over the injured woman, trying to heal her. The dark-haired girl's main focus remained the _tetsherur, _the most lethal of their enemies.

Her father managed to divert a sword diving for Avra's heart, but was injured in the process. His left arm now hung useless by his side. The creature bowled over Lireal and tore his throat open with its claws. She screamed her denial, quickly turning from grief to rage. She recklessly dove forwards, her sword slicing open the beast's flank.

"Avra, you've got to move! To the trees!" The blonde girl didn't seem to hear her though, crouched over their fast fading mother.

"You can't save her! Save yourself, airhead!" Lireal hollered at her.

This cost her the use of her right arm as the _tetsherurs'_ claws shredded the muscle, the poison entering her veins. She growled and ran over, grabbing her sibling by the collar of her gown. The creature leaped then, sinking its teeth into Avra's belly. It dropped her, and turned to face Lireal once more.

With a sob, the dark-haired girl focused on destroying the beast, as the other beings had melted away not a few minutes before. There was no din of battle now, merely the deathly silence of the dead. She threw herself forward, putting all her weight behind the strike. The sword bit deeply into the creature's throat. She accepted the gashing bite on her leg and retained the pressure before ripping the blade free, nearly decapitating it. Its body flopped lifeless to the ground. She could feel the poison pumping through her blood, even as she bled out onto the earth. She used the last of her strength to call forth several marble blocks and set them down around the bodies of her fallen kin, sealing them inside the newly made tomb.

She had survived that day, but she wasn't whole, wasn't truly alive anymore. Shadows dwelled in her heart, and she began to fade away. Her purpose had become to find and slay the traitor, which meant that she was often coming and going. She had heard rumors of war in the lands outside the forest, but they weren't her problem.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The entire group stared in shocked silence. Lireal did not meet their gaze, keeping her silver-grey eyes focused on the ground. Her eyes flew wide open in surprise when warm arms wrapped around her neck. It was Sam. The other Halflings were quick to join in. When the finally let go, she didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry." Sam blubbered. "I'm sorry we were all so right unfair to you."

Gimli patted her shoulder consolingly, while Aragorn and Legolas offered her reassuring smiles. Boromir wiggled uncomfortably, clearly at a loss.

"You're wrong." Frodo said suddenly.

"Hmm?" she hummed thoughtfully.

He looked her straight in the eye. "It wasn't your fault. It's something that would have happened even if you weren't there; there's nothing you could have done."

Her eyes dropped to the ground. She paused recalling faintly something Boromir had said to Frodo when they had entered the wood. '…don't burden yourself with the weight of the dead.' Of course, he really only meant it for the Ringbearer, because of that burden.

She tilted her face back up to them, offering a tiny smile. Maybe…just maybe…they were right. Maybe it was time to move on and starting looking forwards. Maybe.


	18. Lothlorien, Part 3

**A/N: Hello my faithful readers! Sorry for the delay, but I've got six million scholarship essays to type! Yay? O.o**

"_Ancient language. Enough said."_

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my characters!**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

She sighed softly, blowing dark auburn strands of hair out of her face. Haldir had asked her to come here, but he had yet to appear, which was quite unlike him. She was left to mull over her thoughts, which kept returning to her conversation with Celeborn.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X(Flashback)**

The elven lord set his hands upon her shoulders. "I do not wish to upset you, but I have a warning for you."

"What is it?" Lireal frowned.

"There are two of the others here; I thought you would like to know in case you wished to avoid them." He explained.

She stiffened, even as she felt relieved. "If that is all, I would like to rest."

Celeborn nodded, "Oh, and your old residence has not been touched, if you should like to go there."

The dark-haired woman nodded even as she walked away.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X(End Flashback)**

She had visited the small house early that day, changing her travel-worn clothes for some others she kept there for that purpose. Her tunic was a grey-blue color, with a bit of embroidery around the sleeves and high neck, while her pants were black, and her boots were the same worn leather ones she had walked all the way here in. The dark-haired woman had left her weapons except for a small boot knife behind, feeling safe here in Lothlorien. Her hair was still in its usual braid, hanging down past the small of her back, ending just above her thighs.

"I apologize for my tardiness; my brothers needed me." A familiar voice said.

She turned to glance over her shoulder at Haldir. "It's alright."

"Walk with me?" He asked.

Lireal nodded. "What did you invite me here for, Haldir?"

He smiled slightly. "Am I not allowed to talk to my childhood friend who hasn't visited in many long years?"

She gave a small flickering smile. "I suppose. Though I would hardly call us friends when we were children; I hated you, and I believe the feeling was mutual."

Haldir chuckled. "True enough; if I recall correctly, you broke my nose twice, as well as my wrist and several other bones."

"Yes; and you gave me a black eye." She made a small sound of amusement.

"At least we know we have grown past it if we can have such civil conversation about it." The elf joked.

Her silver-grey eyes twinkled. "I suppose that must be so."

Lireal continued her conversation with Haldir as they walked down one of the many paths that crisscrossed Lorien.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Legolas had found that he and the Dwarf had far more in common than he would have ever thought, and the pair had taken to walking through the wood together. The two were on one of those walks when something caught his eye. It was a familiar dark-haired woman conversing with an elf he shortly recognized with Haldir. But the strange thing was, she seemed so relaxed, and she was smiling. His blue eyes stayed focused on them as he stopped; now ignoring Gimli completely.

The Dwarf curiously turned to see what had drawn his companion's attention and stopped midsentence. "Well, well. Seems our lassie has a friend or two more than we reckoned, hmm?"

He turned with a chuckled to the Elf, but received no response. "Let's be going on laddie; we shouldn't be spyin' on them."

Reluctantly Legolas turned away, following Gimli down the path as the Dwarf carried on a one-way conversation. He was left wondering what they could have been talking about that had made her so happy; he was also wondering how she had known Haldir.

When they returned to the glade they were living in, the Elf stood quietly in a corner, thinking. He was unaware of the plotting of two of his companions.

After they had returned, Gimli had gone straight to Aragorn. "He's got it right bad."

"Hmm?" the Man glanced up from his book.

The Dwarf chuckled. "Worse case of jealousy I've ever seen."

The Ranger curiously glanced over to where Legolas was sulking, examining him. "What makes you think that?"

"As soon as we saw the lassie with that other elf, he became right unpleasant company. Moping over it; wouldn't speak a word to me." The red-bearded Dwarf was grinning.

For a moment Aragorn seemed puzzled before recognition flashed in his grey eyes. "She was with Haldir?" He glanced back at Legolas. "Hmm."

"Aye, and they seemed awfully friendly; she was smiling and he was laughing. Don't have the least idea what they were talking 'bout. And what's worse is I don't think that the elf realizes what's happening himself." Gimli was smirking.

The Ranger chuckled. "And just what are you planning, Master Dwarf?"

"Well, I was thinking that now just might be the time to pry and meddle a bit. I was planning on you helping me making the lad recognize what was happening; I'm not sure what we can do about the lassie yet." He replied.

"Hmm." Aragorn hummed in thought. "Perhaps you're right; it doesn't seem that either of them are going to notice soon, but perhaps it would best to let things take their own course."

The Dwarf smiled in triumph; the Man had essentially agreed to help him, only warning him not to go too far. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Unaware of their observer, the pair had continued to walk, talking about their tumultuous childhood relationship. Both of them found the conversation quite amusing as they recounted their various deeds.

Suddenly, Haldir turned serious. "I was wondering…"

"Hmm?" She turned to look at him; it wasn't like him to hesitate.

"You've changed. I mean…you seem…warmer somehow. Before you would speak to me, yes, in monosyllables, but not nearly anything like this." He explained.

Her brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I don't know what you mean."

The elf stopped walking, turning to face her fully, his gaze piercing. "You seem more like you used to when we were younger before…everything… fell apart."

"Oh?" Lireal seemed surprised. "Nothing has changed, really. I certainly don't feel any different."

Haldir sighed softly. "I see. But things have changed; and I think I know why."

"Really? And why is that?" Lireal was mildly curious now.

"They have changed you; your companions. I see that now. You broke your vow." His face darkened at the end.

She thought for a moment before her eyes widened in shock. "I did…but I never really noticed…it just…happened…" she smiled slightly, "but I think that I might be better off for it; I just wish that Gandalf was still with us."

The elf nodded. "As I am sure all your companions do." He glanced at the now setting sun. "It's getting late; perhaps you should return to them."

The dark-haired woman smiled and nodded in agreement. "Yes. I expect to test you to see if you have improved any while I have been away."

With that they parted, with every intention of meeting again the next day.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

By the time Lireal returned, the Elf had nearly fretted himself silly, pacing back and forth uneasily. He barely concealed his relief when she returned.

"Where were you?" Pippin wondered, curious as always. Except, that's what they were all wondering.

"With an old friend." She replied.

Merry shook his head. "Who?"

"Haldir." She gave a tiny smile.

"How do you know each other?" Frodo asked quietly.

The dark-haired woman sat on a protruding tree root, pulling her legs up under her. "Well, I broke his nose, you see…"

Boromir spluttered. "You what?!"

"Oh." She smiled. "That came out wrong…My father and Celeborn were friends, as was my mother and Galadriel. My twin sister followed my mother everywhere, so she wasn't with me at the time; normally I would be with my father, but I was bored and they had been so kind as to point in me in the direction of the archery range. It was there I found three others; one was close to my age, or at least seemed it, and was practicing, the other two, one older and one younger, were watching him; they were clearly brothers. Well, I insulted his rather poor aim, and he very crankily replied. It ended with me breaking his nose and his wrist, while I got a black eye. It probably would have escalated except my father appeared and broke up the fight. After that the two of us couldn't stand to be anywhere in the vicinity of the other."

She paused to take breath a bit, and Pippin pounced on the moment of quiet.

"Then how did you become friends?"

Her lips twitched as if she wanted to smile. "Well, my twin was a very much a ditz." The expressions of disbelief spurred her on. "We were polar opposites in every way; it also appears she lacked anything resembling common sense. Brilliant idiot thought it would be a good idea to go flower-picking in a swamp filled with trolls. Anyway, she went and fell in the river while I was out with Father and Celeborn, so I went running to save her as soon as I felt something was amiss. And I found that she had been saved by none other than my enemy, and was currently spewing her usual rainbows and butterflies. Always too happy for her own good. Well, I was forced to thank him in the end, and we started discussing how much of an idiot she was, and eventually discovered we had several common interests and in the end of it all, we were friends. We did fight on occasion, and there was always a large mess left behind and one, if not both of us ended up in the infirmary."

"I don't think I've ever heard you say so much at once…" Sam said in awe.

The others nodded in agreement.

The dark-haired woman shrugged. "I haven't talked this much in a long time."

"Could you…I mean, would you…" Merry stumbled over his words, blushing.

"Hmm? What is it?" She inquired.

"Sing." Pippin blurted, reading his cousin's mind.

Sam nodded eagerly. "Please? That one from before was so pretty."

"Ah…I'm not really a singer…oh…" her voice trailed off at the pleading glances. That look somehow managed to get to her, although usually it only worked if her twin, Avra, used it. But the hobbits were so small and child-like.

She sighed. "Oh, alright."

Lireal hummed quietly to herself as she thought. The Halflings slowly inched closer along with everyone else.

"If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anybody care?

If my time was up, I'd wanna know you were happy I was there.

If I wasn't here tomorrow ,would anyone lose sleep?

If I wasn't hard and hollow, then maybe you would miss me.

I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone;

Someone that I like better.

I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever.

What if I just pulled myself together?

Would it matter at all?

What if I just try not to remember?

Would it matter at all?

All the chances that have passed me by;

Would it matter if I gave it one more try ?

Would it matter at all?

If I wasn't here tomorrow, would anybody care?

Still stuck inside this sorrow,

I've got nothing and going nowhere.

I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone;

Someone that I like better.

I can never forget, so don't remind me of it forever.

What if I just pulled myself together?

Would it matter at all?

What if I just try not to remember?

Would it matter at all?

All the chances that have passed me by;

Would it matter if I gave it one more try?

Would it matter at all?

I know I'm a mess and I wanna be someone;

Someone that I like better.

Can you help me forget?

Don't wanna feel like this forever.

What if I just pulled myself together?

Would it matter at all?

What if I just try not to remember?

Would it matter at all?

All the chances that have passed me by;

Would it matter if I gave it one more try?

If I left tomorrow, would anybody care?

Stuck in this sorrow, going nowhere.

All the chances that have passed me by;

Would it matter if I gave it one more try?

Would it matter at all?"

The group didn't seem to know whether to smile or frown.

"We would care! You can't leave!" Merry shouted.

Her silver-grey eyes softened. "I know. I have no intention of going anywhere."

Sam was grinning from ear to ear. "Even though it was sad, it was still amazing."

"I wouldn't say that…" she mumbled.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The next morning, the hobbits noticed her getting ready to leave.

"Where are you going?" Pippin, and his insatiable curiosity, asked.

Lireal gave a small smile. "To see Haldir."

"Again?" The hobbit said in puzzlement.

She shrugged as she walked away.

Gimli had trouble concealing his laughter; Legolas looked very upset, in fact, the Dwarf would almost say he had steam coming out of his ears from his mind working so hard to figure out why she would possibly want to spend time with the March Warden and not the rest of them.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Lireal stretched, waiting for Haldir, who was once again late. She wondered why the usually punctual Elf was late twice in a row.

When he finally appeared, his clothes seemed mussed, like he had dressed quickly without his usual care. He didn't apologize this time, but simply fell in beside her. She smirked slightly before facing the target. She hadn't been joking when she said she wanted to see how he had improved since the last she saw him.

"No cheating." Was all Haldir said before they started.

They competed, with the dark-haired woman paying no mind to the Elf's statement before they had begun. He really was her equal when it came to the bow, and she would readily admit it, but it was so much fun to toy with elves. Even when they knew what she was doing, they would still get riled up. It was just amusing.

It was just past noon when they were interrupted.

"Oh!" said a little voice.

Her silver-grey eyes flickered over to the intruder. The woman had long light brown hair that cascaded down to her knees with large green eyes and full pouty lips; she was extremely beautiful. Her pale lavender gown was modestly cut, and a pendant hung from the young woman's neck. The pendant was of a dragon at rest with a scroll above it. The pendant of healer and scholar Dragorlai; Lireal's own pendant had a sword because she was a warrior.

Her eyes narrowed. She had been so far successfully avoiding the two others that Celeborn had warned her about. But it seemed fate was against her, seeing as the stranger had still managed to find her.

"Haldir," the woman said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "who's your friend?"

"I am surprised the two of you haven't met; this is-"He was cut off by Lireal.

"_Hello, cousin."_ She said coldly.

The stranger clapped her hands in joy. "_Oh! It is nice to meet you, cousin. My name is Lilith; who are you?"_

"_That isn't any of your business."_ She replied.

The dark-haired woman turned to Haldir. "If you'll excuse me." She said stiffly, bowing as she left.

As she glanced over her shoulder, she had the misfortune of seeing Lilith wrap her arms around the Elf's neck. The sight of it turned her stomach. Yet she was aware of his gaze burning into her back as she walked away.

Those who were still at the glade when she returned greeted her, cheerily on the hobbits part. Boromir was there, along with Merry and Pippin. There was no sign of anyone else. With a wave she left again, to go roam through the wood on her own.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

**A/N: The song is Would it Matter by Skillet. I was stuck in indecision between that one and Believe, also by Skillet. I felt that this one would be better though; they both describe her very well though. And I swear, if anyone asks what the song is…well…they don't want to know…JUST READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE! Oh! And press the magic button after typing in the magic box…OR ELSE! The tiger is waiting, and he is hungry…I'll let you figure out what's going to happen to non-reviewers…**

**NOTE:** **Dragorlai all refer to each other as 'cousin' even if they aren't actually related, and if they are, the address each other by their relation when first greeting one another. So she would say 'Hello, sister' if she was greeting the traitor on friendly terms. (Not gonna happen)**


	19. Lothlorien, Part 4

**A/N: Hey guys! So many essays…But, I won't bore you with my ordinary life. Alas it is the end of Lothlorien…**

**I am disappointed…nobody reviewed last chapter! Well, I say…you know what, you don't want to know what I say. The tiger is waiting for your soulsss…that's right, he doesn't just eat your flesh, he devours your soul. Be afraid. Be very afraid. (That is, if you don't review.)**

**Do you guys have any idea how I feel when you don't review? I feel like an unappreciated, useless, lazy hobo. I write this for you guys. Not for me, for you. I can watch the little movies in my head, but this is the only way to share them with others.**

**Silent's first law of reviewing:**

**Reviews = Motivation = Fast Updates**

"_Ancient language. Just in case."_

***=I translated the Gaelic(Elvish?) into English. The song is May it Be by Enya. It's the song in the credits of the first movie.**

**Disclaimers: I own nothing but my characters.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Legolas and Gimli returned not long after Lireal had left the second time; they were the last ones to arrive. The others in the clearing greeted them as usual. The Elf didn't seem overly surprised at the absence of the dark-haired woman, as if he expected it.

The sun was almost completely gone when Haldir appeared. He shifted nervously at first before setting himself to face them.

"Haldir." Aragorn greeted him cordially.

He nodded. "I was just wondering if any of you had seen Lireal…"

"But wasn't she with you?" Pippin wondered.

Haldir shifted his weight nervously. "Well, yes, she was, but she left…so I thought that she had returned here."

They all shook their heads.

"We haven't seen her since this morning." Frodo replied.

He gulped slightly. "Oh, I see."

"Why exactly are you looking for her?" Legolas asked.

"Well, I should probably apologize to her…there was a small incident is all." Haldir explained.

Merry frowned. "Wait, if she's not here, and she's not with him…then where is she?"

That question made them all pause. The shock and concern in everyone's faces admitted the truth: they really were worried about their friend. They had to find her.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Lireal had wandered listlessly about Lothlorien after her run in with Lilith. She didn't know why, but she felt betrayed, seeing that woman wrapped around her only childhood friend other than her twin sister.

Unfortunately, it seemed as if they were determined to find her, no matter the lengths she went to to avoid them.

"_Cousin."_ The voice greeted her warmly. "_Lilith had mentioned she had bumped into you. She failed to mention your great beauty."_

The dark-haired woman whipped around, glaring at the man. He was familiar…they had met before, as his name sprang to the forefront of her mind. "_You should know better than to talk to me like that, Jomundur."_

He stuttered, choking on his words. "_Good grief, I didn't recognize you, my lady."_

"_Don't call me that." _Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "_I never was, and I never will be."_

"_Sorry milady, but it is not a choice you can make. Please come back to us!" _The brown-haired man begged.

She growled, one hand falling to rest on her hip where her swords should have been. She vaguely recalled leaving them in the residence with the rest of her belongings, feeling as safe as she did in the Golden Wood. "_You would do well to leave now and not look back. I want nothing to do with you bunch of cowards. Now leave me in peace."_

Lireal turned as if to leave herself, but the foolish Dragorlai called out yet again. "_Please! I know not what I have done to offend you, my lady, but forgive me! I only beg for you to return! Darkness has begun to settle in the wood and –" _

She shook slightly with anger. "_And you have only just now noticed!" _she snapped. "_The darkness has been there for many centuries now! You only notice because it is growing! Fix it yourselves! It's not my problem anymore!"_

The dark-haired woman had spun to face the insulting man. "_While you were hiding like beaten curs, I was doing what I could to stop that Shadow! I was waiting for your assistance, but it never came! So it's all your problem now, so you fix it! Stupid creatures, I will never come back! I have much better things to do than oversee your petty world! You finally receive your punishment; better late than never, I suppose."_

The brown-haired man seemed taken aback. "_But my lady…"_

His weak plea was easily ignored as she turned and strode away, her hands clenched into shaking fists at her side. They were so foolish! How could they ever begin to dream that she would come back to them? They had left her for dead! Gandalf had saved her! They had never come. So now she wouldn't go gallivanting off to save them; she had something more important to do.

Strangely, it wasn't killing the traitor….

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The Fellowship with Haldir in tow had searched high and low for Lireal. They found her quickly, if only because she was having a heated discussion with someone.

The sight before them was awe inspiring. She had a fist on her hip and was glaring down on the man before her, even though he was physically taller than her. There was something stern and noble in her features in that moment that demanded respect. Her voice was stern, with her anger leaking through on her inflections of the foreign words; she was speaking in the ancient language.

The man cowered slightly before her, occasionally making weak pleas. It didn't take long before she seemed to become angry beyond reason, snapping shortly at him before striding away, fists clenched. She went in the opposite direction, away from the Fellowship.

When the man turned to where they could see his face, they noticed a pendant. It was very similar to one they had seen before, but it was different. The meaning was still the same, though. It marked him as Dragorlai. Shortly afterwards, a beautiful young woman approached him, speaking to him with evident concern.

Haldir approached the strangers. "What was that about?"

The man stiffened slightly, turning to face them. "It is none of your concern." He had a faint accent, as if he didn't speak Common Tongue very often.

The March Warden shook his head and turned away; it didn't matter to him. His only goal was to apologize to his childhood friend. The only effect this conversation had had on her was to make her angry, but that was irrelevant.

The Company set off in the direction their friend had taken. It hadn't taken long for them to find her; Lireal hadn't gone far.

"What's wrong?" Frodo inquired.

She didn't turn to face him. "Nothing."

"That's not true and you know it!" Sam retorted, blushing slightly at his own forwardness.

The dark-haired woman sighed softly. "I did most of it to myself."

"Huh?" Pippin expressed his puzzlement.

Lireal turned to face them. Her face was set in an unreadable expression. "The scar; only the black part was the original wound. If Gandalf hadn't found me, I would have killed myself eventually."

"You can't mean that!" Frodo cried out in distress.

Her hand came to rest above the scar, lying flat for a moment before tightening into a fist. "Yes. I was barely conscious; all I was aware of was this unbelievable pain in my chest. I was clawing at it, anything to get rid of it. It wasn't until I fully came to after that batty old wizard saved me that I realized what I had been doing; I was trying to rip my own heart out. I couldn't deal with the pain, the emptiness. It was more than I could handle. But how quickly all that turned to anger. I was angry at the traitor, at myself, at the Dragorlai. They never came to see me. They never tried to find me. I didn't matter. I hated them for that, as much as I hated myself for allowing such a thing to happen."

"Lassie…" the Dwarf whispered before he cleared his throat. "It's nice to know that ya' trust us enough to share this…"

She gave a weak smile. The look slowly faded from her face, but remained in her eyes as she straightened. "Well, we shouldn't linger; if you haven' forgotten, we leave tomorrow."

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

There had been no further incidents since her argument with Jomundur. She had easily forgiven Haldir, and seemed perfectly fine.

The Fellowship spent much of the time when they were packing to mull over all the things she had told them these past few weeks. They were generally saddened for her, but they didn't pity her; they couldn't bring themselves to it. Not to mention should would probably hurt them if she thought that they did.

The night before they left, Galadriel called upon them. There were several elves lined up behind her, holding various objects, as well as Lord Celeborn, standing off to the side. She had the Company line up before she presented them each with a cloak of elven weave, with the gift of blending into the surrounding land.

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin."

The Elf tested the pull of the bow after admiring the beautiful hand-worked wood.

"These are the daggers of the Anorien, they have already seen service in war. Do not fear, young Peregrin Took, you will find your courage."

The two hobbits, Merry and Pippin, looked at the sharp, well-made blades.

"And for you, Samwise Gamgee, Elven rope."

The chubby hobbit smiled, glancing at the cousins. "Thank you, my lady. Got anymore of those nice shiny daggers?"

The small smile was answer enough, and Sam stepped back.

"What would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?"

Gimli shifted slightly. "Nothing; except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time. For she is more fair than all the gemstones beneath the Earth."

The Elven lady laughed faintly at that.

"Actually, there was one thing…" He leaned up and whispered something in Galadriel's ear.

Lireal smirked slightly when she caught sight of the Dwarf's gift. Three golden strands of the elven lady's hair.

"I have nothing greater to give than the gift you already bear." She reached out, and her hand hovered above the hollow of the Ranger's throat. The two had a quiet conversation in Elvish; Lireal didn't eavesdrop.

"That choice is yet before her; you have your own choice to make, Aragorn. To rise above the height of all your fathers since Elendil, or to fall into darkness with all that is left of your kin."

Aragorn nodded.

At last, Galadriel turned to the dark-haired woman.

"I fear that for you I have no gift to give save this; it is something you will have to find within yourself. I would ask that you forgive me. I had withheld that information by your mother's own council, for we feared you would do something rash. I realize now that we should have told you; perhaps some of this misery would never have happened."

She looked down. "I…. forgive… " Lireal turned her head away, staring off into the distance. "The past is the past; it can't be changed now."

The Elven Lady inclined her head and moved on. Celeborn stepped up to face the dark-haired woman.

"I have a gift for you as well, _little dove._" He explained.

"_You have walked many roads and seen much of darkness and sorrow. I would give you the gift of knowing that your Father would be proud of you, little dove, and Gandalf also. The gift I give is one that you already possess. You recognize now, the truth in your heart? Know that here there will always be shelter for you, no matter how far you have gone astray." _

She gave him a small smile and nodded.

Galadriel gave the last gift.

"Farewell, Frodo Baggins. I give you the light of Earendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light for you in dark places when all other lights go out."

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

They left early the next morning before the sun had fully risen. The Fellowship paddled their boats quietly along the River. They were grouped in groups of three; Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam in one boat, Boromir, Merry, and Pippin in the next, with Legolas, Gimli, and Lireal in the last boat.

Before they had truly left the cove, the dark-haired woman knew without a doubt that she would never return to this place, fair as it was. Something compelled her to raise her voice one last time in this fair wood.

Her voice echoed with her quiet sorrow as the words left her lips; she sang softly in her native tongue, every syllable alien but enchanting to the Company.

"_May it be an evening star, shines down upon you.  
May it be when darkness falls, your heart will be true.  
You walk a lonely road;  
Oh! How far you are from home._

_Darkness has come.*  
Believe and you will find your way.  
Darkness has fallen.*  
A promise lives within you now_

_May it be the shadow's call, will fly away.  
May it be your journey on to light the day.  
When the night is overcome,  
You may rise to find the sun._

_Darkness has come.  
Believe and you will find your way.  
Darkness has fallen.  
A promise lives within you now._

_A promise lives within you now."_

"I take much sorrow at this parting; for I have looked my last upon that which is fairest." The Dwarf mumbled. "Henceforth I shall call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

Legolas smiled gently. "What was it?"

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three." He whispered in awe.

The Elf and Lireal both smiled slightly at that.

"And what of you?" The blonde elf wondered. "What was Lord Celeborn's gift? And Lady Galadriel's?"

She looked over her shoulder at him, pausing in her paddling to respond. "Her gift was meant to lighten my heart, I think. It isn't really something I can explain. Celeborn's gift isn't one I care to share."

They left it at that as they began their journey down the Great River Anduin.


	20. The Breaking of the Fellowship

**A/N: Hey oh! Thank you to all my awesome reviewers! Sorry for the scare guys! I would never delete this! Now, updates might start taking forever, but I would never delete it, I swear. I love this story too much to quit. I've put everything else on hold for this just because my psychotic brain is so full of this there isn't room for anything else! It's nice to know all my readers aren't dead or illiterate.**

**Argh! Sorry for the slow update guys but my SATs and Homecoming are in like, two weeks. And they're on the same day. I mean, who's frigging idea was THAT?! **

**Whoohoo! Twenty chapters! New Record! **

**As for your question, I'm not exactly sure. There were never a lot of Dragorlai to begin with, but the traitor really was only out to get her family. The exact reasons of why that is will be explained in time.**

**Silent's 2****nd**** Law of Reviewing:**

**Smiley faces count. Anything that makes it clear you're alive and literate.**

"_I don't think there will be any this chapter, but Ancient Language."_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my characters.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The Fellowship had begun the long journey down the Great River Anduin. They moved along quietly, following the flow of the river. The scenery slipped by, constantly changing.

Lireal had been relaxed with the peace of the River until she felt that something was awry. It took her a moment to feel faintly some dark shadow; it was not the traitor, of that she was certain. No, this was a different shadow, nowhere near the level of the traitor. It was weak, but it was there. She guessed that the Elf and Ranger wouldn't be able to sense it until it drew nearer, it was so faint. The dark-haired woman remained mostly at ease, not wanting to frighten her companions. But she remained alert for danger all the same.

Suddenly, a pack of crows startled up, cawing. The Fellowship were now fully aware of the threat now. The Halflings didn't seem to take notice of it, but she could see that it had put the Men and the Elf on alert.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

They were paddling through a small gorge when she heard Aragorn quietly speaking.

"The Argonath. Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

The two statues were of proud men with their hands outstretched, palms outward, facing the River. It almost seemed as if they were commanding the group of boats to stop. Lireal noticed a pair of swallows dart up from the crown of one of the statues that they had made their home. The Fellowship paddled by, many of them staring up at the statues in awe.

It wasn't long after that that they could faintly see the mist of Rauros, the mighty falls. Also in their sight were the islands of Tol Brandir, Amon Lhaw, and Amon Hen, which divided the Falls and stood on either side.

They set up camp on the western bank, on the island of Amon Hen, in the glade of Parth Galen on the shore. One could hear the distant rumble of falls.

"We cross the lake at nightfall." Aragorn explained as he finished emptying one of the boats. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the North."

Gimli snorted. "Oh, yes? Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better. Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see."

"That is our road." The Ranger replied calmly. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

Gimli's bout of muttering after that tugged at the corner of her lips, tilting them upwards slightly. But she couldn't ignore the seriousness of the situation. She knelt down, keeping her voice low so she wouldn't be overheard.

"You helping them lose their faith. Don't complain too much; some of us can handle that road better than others." She said with a distinct glance at the hobbits. "Their spirits are low enough already without all of this talk."

The Dwarf nodded slightly, catching her meaning. "You're right, of course, lassie. Them little ones don't need this." He chuckled quietly.

The dark-haired woman straightened, turning away. She caught only the tail end of Legolas and Aragorn's conversation, but she knew that the Elf was just as aware of the pressing shadow as she was.

And then Merry asked a question that none of them were expecting. "Where's Frodo?"

Instantly they all turned, looking to where the hobbit had been. Lireal noticed an abandoned shield that belonged to no one other than Boromir. A worry grew in her mind. He wouldn't, would he? She noticed that she was not the only one made uneasy by the missing Man's presence. The Fellowship spilt up, running in different directions as they searched for Frodo.

The dark-haired woman's worry was growing to a point that she made a desperate move; she willingly sought out the evil of the Ring. Her head throbbed slightly from focusing on the shadow, but she pushed the pain aside as she stumbled upon a clearing. The Ringbearer was there, as was Boromir. There was something in the southerner's eyes, something that she had seen before.

Even as the man drew his sword, she was there, between him and Frodo. She glanced over her shoulder at the nervous Halfling and saw that he was gone. Despite her distraction, Boromir couldn't touch her. Suddenly, he slipped and fell, and he seemed to return to himself, the dark light receding from his eyes.

"Frodo?" his voiced trembled. "Frodo." The man looked about, clearly distressed. "What have I done? Please, Frodo. Frodo, I'm sorry!"

She sighed softly. "Get up."

He looked up at her. She could make out tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Get up." She commanded. "The shadow draws near. We cannot leave him unprotected."

He sobbed softly. "You would serve him better than me. Just leave me here."

The sound of her hand hitting his face echoed. She growled. "Get up! Wallowing in self-pity is the easy road; fixing your mistakes takes much more effort. Now get up! You're wasting precious time that we do not have!"

Slowly, he stood back up and nodded.

She lead the way, but what the Gondorian didn't know was that she was leading him away from Frodo. She trusted that one of the others would find him.

It was then that she heard the metallic clang of battle and orc horns blowing. She swore viciously. Now she knew the cause of the ominous feeling.

Suddenly, Merry and Pippin were there tumbling down the hill with a huge group of orcs on their tail. The pair charged into the fray without a second thought.

Lireal's swords gleamed despite the black blood that soon covered them. These orcs put up more resistance than she had expected, however. They were larger and more fell than any other orcs she had ever encountered in all her years. Something Gandalf had said in Rivendell sprang to mind. The true depth of Saruman's treachery, she thought.

Even the little hobbits fought as best they could the few that slipped past Lireal and Boromir. They Halflings were standing on a bridge, with a warrior on either side, protecting them from the orcs that came at them from both sides.

The dark-haired woman was dancing, spinning, not a single movement wasted. Her swords flashed, moving impossibly fast, working independently from each other, yet together as a cohesive whole. But there were too many. Orcs fell at her feet, but for each fallen one three more leapt to take its place. It was then she heard the call of the horn of Gondor. For once, she hoped that help was on the way, despite her pride, she knew that they wouldn't hold for much longer. But she musn't lose! She knew what the consequences would be, and she would not let those penalties be exacted on the little hobbits!

Yet it seemed that the horn's call drew more enemies than it did allies. She could hear faint clanging at the top of the ridge, but she understood that it would take time for her friends to fight through to them. They just had to hold out. She spun her blades, stabbing an orc through the chest and piercing another in the jugular. She just had to keep fighting.

It was then that they made a break for it, realizing they had better chances of making a run for it than holding a defensible position. Boromir blew on his horn once more while the hobbits fled behind him. Lireal remained before him, fighting off the black horde.

"Run! Run!" Boromir shouted, herding Merry and Pippin.

The dark-haired woman fell back as well, following them. It went against her nature and her teachings to flee, but she did so.

It wasn't long, however, before they had to stop and fend off the orcs that had followed them, gaining on the tiring fighters. The Gondorian and the Dragorlai were standing back to back, despite the large gaps in their fighting styles. The pair were holding, but Lireal knew it wouldn't last for long.

She couldn't help but a small cry of pain and shock as something heavily slammed into the back of her shoulder, knocking her off balance. She staggered but regained her footing and kept fighting. Each movement of her left arm sent pain spiraling through her muscles, but she ignored it until she heard a similar half-choked cry of pain beside her. The dark-haired woman turned to find that the Man had an arrow embedded in his chest. And it wasn't the normal arrow orcs used. It was longer and wider in the shaft, and she guessed with a much broader and vicious tip.

Boromir fell to his knees, yet as soon as the next orc approached him he rose, fighting again. This time she heard the distinct twang of the bowstring and the thud of impact as the arrow hit the man. There had been a small break in the fighting on her side, so she had reached around and snapped part of the arrow haft off, leaving only a few inches sticking out of her shoulder. Lireal fought more determined now than ever before. Even though she had never really gotten to know the man, she had seen the pain in the hobbit's faces, and she wasn't willing to let them suffer by losing him.

The second arrow was in the man's stomach, and moments later a third joined it, this one also in his chest, inches from the first. The man had fallen to his knees, but he was still fighting. Lireal maintained her set stance, looking at Merry and Pippin over her shoulder.

"Get out of here!" she shouted breathlessly at them. "Find somewhere safe to wait out the attack! We will be fine! We will find you! I swear!"

The two looked at each in indecision. "You promise you'll be alright?" Pippin asked.

"I swear to you, we will survive, and we will find you." She met their eyes as best she could.

They nodded and ran. But they weren't fast enough. She had killed most of the orcs, but one knocked her off her feet, sending her into a diving roll. A stream of them ran by her, picking up the shouting hobbits. Panting, Lireal pushed herself up to her knees. Her silver-grey eyes flickered to her companion, the orc archer only feet away, another arrow on the string. She pulled her arm back, letting one of her throwing knives fly. It severed the string and embedded itself in the archer orc's chest.

That cost her the opportunity to defend herself as the orc that had bowled her over gave her a heavy blow to her face. The dark-haired woman shook it off as best she could, struggling to stand. The constant wild fighting was beginning to take its toll. She raised the tips of her swords, skewering her current enemy before moving onto the last living orc, the archer. Before she could even step forward, Aragorn came from nowhere and tackled it, engaging it in a fight.

Lireal limped to Boromir's side. She sheathed her swords, reaching towards the fallen man when she heard the Ranger cry out. She turned and flung her other knife, sinking it deep into the monsters back. Still it seemed unfazed. In a few moments however, Aragorn had succeeded and was running towards them. At last she gave in to her exhaustion and crumpled to her knees.

The Ranger leaned over Boromir, seeing the man was still alive, he turned to her. "Can't you save him?"

It took all her strength to find her voice. "Like this…one way…or another…one of us….wouldn't survive…" Her voice was quiet. "…but…I can still…try…"

She saw the despair in his eyes and set her hand determinedly on the southerner's shoulder, when Aragorn shook his head, pushing her away, knocking her completely over onto her side. She made a muffled noise of complaint when she landed on her injured shoulder, but she didn't have the energy to roll off of it.

She heard the Men speaking, but the words made no sense. The world was sliding in and out of focus. She had lost too much blood she realized. Between her shoulder and a deep cut on her leg she was only just becoming aware of, she had lost a great deal of blood. If she was going to die anyway, better that she save their friend than waste two lives when one could have lived. Strangely, she couldn't get her jaw to work to tell the Ranger that.

All of a sudden, dying seemed easy, appealing even, to the constant fighting that had marked the majority of her life and would probably continue on for the rest of it. She heard faintly others arriving, but she couldn't make out how many there were.

It was then she became aware of someone shaking her shoulder, almost frantically. Then, death didn't seem so appealing. She thought of Gandalf, the Halflings, the comical Dwarf, the Ranger, and the Elf. But others sprang to mind too. What would her Father think of her if she just laid down and died like this without even managing to save her friends?

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The Elf and Dwarf could find no words for the scene before them. Aragorn was leaning over Boromir, and slightly off to the side Lireal was sprawled on her side. There orc bodies everywhere, a testament to the two warriors skill. Gimli uttered out a choked cry as he stumbled over to the Dragorlai's unmoving form.

He began shaking her shoulder violently. "Get up, lassie."

The Elf knelt down beside him. Her silver-grey eyes were open but unfocused, and her breathing was weak and extremely labored. A small trickle of blood flowed from the corner of her lips. One of her legs was badly torn, but other than that they could see no other injuries. Boromir had died with a quiet sigh after his moment with Aragorn, and the Ranger turned towards them.

Gimli had released her shoulder, but the Man now shook her. She had been awake just moments ago, and he was determined not to lose to friends in one blow.

"Don't you dare die on us now, lassie!" the Dwarf seemed close to tears.

"Come, we need you. The hobbits have been taken. There is work for you to do yet." The Ranger insisted.

Legolas could find no words to say, so he just quietly prayed to the Valar that she would be alright.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

It was then she remembered something her Father had told her.

"There are many things worth dying for. But that is not the question. You have to find something to _live_ for, and cling to it with all your might. It's true, a day may come when the best you can do is die for something, or someone, but if you can, try your hardest to live for them instead. Dying is easy; living isn't."

Lireal struggled to force herself to focus on the voice calling her name-no, voices-she corrected herself. She tried to make her lips move, to say something but nothing would come out. Slowly, she focused on making out the words that were being said.

"Don't you dare die on us now, lassie!" one exclaimed.

Gimli, she thought.

"Come, we need you. The hobbits have been taken. There is work for you to do yet."

Aragorn, she recognized his voice.

Then, she remembered what she had promised Merry and Pippin. Suddenly, she found her own.

"_It's…so…nice…to know…that…it matters."_ She mumbled, rolling over slight to spit out the blood clogging up her mouth.

She heard them immediately change tones. She didn't resist when Aragorn tended to her wounds, but merely lay there, trying to retain her grip on reality.

Once the man was down, she ever so slowly pushed herself up. She thought she heard the Dwarf mumble something faintly about not pushing herself, but she ignored it.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, the world still spinning a bit. "I'm so useless…I couldn't even protect them!" She cried out in distress.

"It's not your fault; because of you they lasted longer than they would have without your help." Legolas reassured her.

While the other three gave Boromir to the River, she sat, leaning against a tree, trying to recover as quickly as possible. Even though she healed faster than most, it would still take her a day or more to fully recover. But they didn't have that time. As soon as Boromir was at rest, they would be leaving she knew.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The three friends stood on the beach, now knowing the fate of Sam and Frodo.

"Then it has all been in vain." Gimli said. "The Fellowship has failed."

Aragorn grasped his companions' shoulders. "Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandoned merry and pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind. Let's go hunt some orc."

The other two both smiled.

"Yes!" Gimli shouted, chasing after the Ranger, the Elf right behind.

When they came running by, Lireal was waiting for them.

"I made a promise, and I intend to keep it." She explained. "I'm going with you."

Aragorn nodded, and the four ran off into the west.

Forth the four hunters.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

**Haha! Done with the first book/movie at last! The Two Towers! Whoot! And the next two books/movies will probably be longer 'cause I like them better. Don't ask why, I just do.**


	21. Fangorn Forest and Other Surprises

**A/N: Hi guys! Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! WHooo! Two Towers Time baby!**

**I have an entire folder labeled 'Fanfiction' and in that folder I have another folder labeled 'Lord of the Rings.' If that's not obsession, I don't know what is. Plus, this story isn't the only one in there too. Whether or not those others will be posted, I have no clue.**

**These are on the spur of the moment, and the others are really just like, the first chapter, a jumping off point. Or random scribbles on a page.**

"_Ancient language. Just a reminder. For, you know, you forgetfully people."_

"Underlines are Elvish."

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my characters.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The four traveled through the Emyn Muil, a maze of cliffs and ridges. They had been running for three days straight without rest. Lireal had healed well enough that she could easily keep up. She ran behind Legolas and Aragorn, but before Gimli. The dwarf huffed and puffed along behind her, occasionally being teased about his speed.

At the moment, they were waiting on Aragorn, who was sprawled with one ear against the ground.

"Their pace has quickened." He looked up, rising. "They must have caught our scent. Hurry!"

The elf easily crested the ridge. "Come on, Gimli!"

The dark-haired woman chuckled softly at the red-bearded dwarf as she followed Legolas.

"Three days and nights pursuit. No food. No rest. And no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell." Gimli muttered.

The hunters crested the ridge and picked up some speed on the downslope. They ran fleetly across the broken landscape, with Aragorn in the lead, tracking as best he could in the barren land. Suddenly he paused, kneeling. Legolas ran up to him with the Dragorlai close behind.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall." He said, holding one of the brooches from the hobbits cloaks.

"They may yet be alive." The Elf replied.

The man rose, pushing off his knees, checking the tracks. "Less than a day ahead of us. Come."

There was a loud grunt and a thud as the dwarf reached the bottom of the hill he rolled down.

"Come, Gimli! We're gaining on them!" Legolas turned and shouted over his shoulder.

"I'm wasted on cross-country. We Dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances." He retorted.

Lireal chuckled softly. Those two were close, but they always poked fun at one another. It was then that they stopped at a cliff-wall.

"Rohan." The Ranger stated. "Home of the Horse-lords. There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures; sets its will against us."

The Elf had run onto a small jutting outcropping from the cliff.

"Legolas! What do your Elf-eyes see?" Aragorn shouted.

He stared, following the path of their prey. "The Uruks turn northeast. They are taking the hobbits to Isengard."

Realization struck them.

"Saruman." Aragorn breathed.

They continued their chase across the grassy fields of Rohan, following their foes and kidnapped friends tirelessly.

"Keep breathing. That's the key. Breathe." The dwarf panted from behind.

Gimli had fallen far behind the other three. Aragorn lead them still, and Legolas followed him. The sight and sense of nearness to the Halflings spurred Lireal on, giving her new energy and hope. They were so close, surely there was no escape for the orcs. She now ran alongside the Elf, ignoring the faint throbbing in her shoulder. She had healed well, but not completely; the exertion had slowed the process down considerably.

"They've run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them." Legolas commented.

They kept running, even as the sun set, guiding their direction. They ran through the night. Legolas turned about, glancing at the dawn.

"A red sun rises; blood has been spilt this night." He murmured.

They ran in the early morning sunlight, the dew on the grass shining in the rays of sun. Aragorn paused kneeling, when there was a strange cry. He glanced up before leading them to hide behind a large boulder outcropping. The hunters crouched there, waiting. Lireal tugged her hood up; years of wariness kicking in.

A large group of horseman galloped by. Once the soldiers had barely past, the Ranger lead them out of hiding.

"Riders of Rohan, what news from the mark?" He shouted.

The horsemen turned and wheeled, quickly surrounding the four friends. The soldiers kept their spears down, pointing at them. The nearest stopped only a foot from Aragorn's chest. The Ranger kept his hands up, away from his weapons, trying to be peaceable.

The leader trotted forward. "What business does Elves, a Man, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine." Gimli said, resting his hands on the head of his axe, leaning against it.

The Man dismounted. Aragorn placed a hand on the Dwarf's shoulder. "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

Legolas ripped an arrow from his quiver and set it to the string, drawing his bow. Lireal did the same.

"You would die before your stroke fell." The Elf warned grimly.

Aragorn reached over and pushed Legolas' arm so that the arrow was pointing at the ground. The Dragorlai reluctantly lowered her own bow.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn." The Ranger stated. "This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and Legolas of the Woodland Realm." He introduced her to the stranger as Gandalf had to them originally when they first met. "And Darkhunter. We are friends of Rohan, and of Theoden, your king."

The man removed his helm. "Theoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin."

The ring of soldiers relaxed as their leader continued. "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say. As an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." The Man stared hard at Lireal.

"We are no spies." Aragorn replied. "We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night." The man said.

Gimli interrupted desperately. "But there were two hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with 'em?"

"They would be small, only children to your eyes." The Ranger explained.

The soldier shook his head. "We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." He pointed in the direction of smoke.

"Dead?" the Dwarf inquired.

The stranger nodded. "I am sorry."

Legolas stared at the ground, putting an arm on Gimli's shoulder for support. Aragorn looked away, staring at his friends. The dark-haired woman stared hauntingly at the man's face; he refused to make eye-contact.

He seemed to come to a decision. The soldier whistled. "Hasufel! Arod!" Two horses with empty saddles approached them. "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell."

The horseman donned his helm once more and mounted his horse. "Look for your friends. But do not trust to hope." They looked at him. "It has forsaken these lands."

"We ride north!" he commanded his company, the horsemen charging off, leaving the four companions alone in the fields of Rohan once more.

After a moment of silence, they mounted the horses. Legolas rode with Gimli, and Aragorn and Lireal shared a horse. They arrived quickly at the smoking pile of ash. They dismounted, and the dwarf poked through the pile of charred bones and ash. He removed something from the pile.

"It's one of their wee belts." He mumbled.

The elf murmured a quiet prayer. The dark-haired woman bowed her head. She had failed them. Aragorn kicked a helmet with a shout of rage, falling to the ground on his knees.

"We failed them." Gimli echoed her sentiments.

The Ranger inspected the ground beside him. "A Hobbit lay here. And the other."

He slowly stood, moving forward slowly, eyes glued to the ground. "They crawled. Their hands were bound. Their bonds were cut. They ran over here. They were followed. Tracks lead away from the battle…into Fangorn Forest."

The companions stopped at the eve of the wood, staring within.

"Fangorn? What madness drove 'em in there?" the Dwarf whispered.

Lireal had been in the wood before; in fact, some close friends dwelled in it. She had no fear of the place like others of the outside world.

"No. Not madness. If one is careful, it is very safe. Even more safe, if one were two lost little hobbits." She murmured softly.

After a few minutes of trying to peer through the gloom, they entered the forest. Lireal quickly took the lead from Aragorn, being more familiar with the place. They moved almost silently through the trees. Gimli stopped to inspect a bush.

"Orc blood." He spat.

The Ranger knelt. "These are strange tracks."

The dark-haired woman smirked slightly in recognition. The Halflings were safer than she thought.

"The air is so close in here." Gimli whispered.

The Elf glanced about before responding. "This forest is old. Very old. Full of memory, and anger."

The trees began to creak and whine, and the startled dwarf pulled out his axe.

"The trees are speaking to each other." Legolas turned around.

The other three looked at the dwarf.

"Gimli!" Aragorn hissed. "Lower your ax."

Gimli slowly relaxed, dropping the axe back into place at his side.

"They have feelings, my friend." The Elf smirked. "The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

The Dwarf snorted. "Talking trees. And what do trees have to talk about, eh? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings." He muttered.

Suddenly, Legolas strode forward. "Aragorn, something's out there."

"What do you see?" The man followed him.

"The White Wizard approaches." The Elf whispered, nodding his head slightly in the direction they had come from.

"We must be wary." Lireal mumbled.

When the other two turned to look at her, she only raised an eyebrow.

Aragorn inhaled. "Do not let him speak, he will put a spell on us."

They all tightened their grip around the weapons of their choice. Legolas had his bow, the Ranger his sword, Gimli one of his throwing axes, and Lireal one of her throwing knives.

"We must be quick." The man murmured.

The four companions spun about as one, raising their weapons. The white glowing figure shattered the Dwarf's ax and the Elf's arrow, and Aragorn's sword glowed white-hot, as did Lireal's knife, which she hadn't thrown. There was something familiar about the figure, and they didn't possess an aura of shadow and evil.

Her companions shielded their eyes from the bright light.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits." The figures echoing voice said.

"Where are they?" The Ranger demanded.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" The stranger replied.

Aragorn's eyes widened. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

The man passed his staff before him, revealing him to be….Gandalf. Lireal didn't believe it. It was impossible; it must be some sort of trick.

"It cannot be." The Dunedain breathed.

The Elf knelt. "Forgive me. I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman." The wizard replied. "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been."

The Man worked his jaw. "You fell." It was as much a question as a statement.

"Through fire and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age of the Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back, until my task is done." He explained.

Aragorn stepped forward. "Gandalf."

"Gandalf?" The wizard looked as if he was remembering something long forgotten. "Yes. That was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."

The Dwarf smiled. "Gandalf."

"I am Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide." The wizard nodded.

For the first time since he had appeared, she spoke. "_Grey One."_ She murmured almost inaudibly, reaching out to him. "_Much heartache have you caused me."_

"_I would apologize to you, little dove."_ He said, turning to her, setting a hand on her hair.

"_I forgive you."_ She tried to smile, but she wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry.

The old man pulled her into a hug. "_It is good to see you once more, and know that our paths lay together for now."_

Gandalf began leading the way out of Fangorn. "One stage of your journey is over, another begins. We must travel to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras?" Gimli grumbled. "That is no short distance!"

"We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the king." The Ranger said softly.

The old man nodded. "Yes. And it will not easily be cured."

"Then we have run all this way for nothing." The Dwarf complained. "Are we going to leave those poor hobbits here in this dark, dank, tree-infested-?" There was a loud groan from the trees. "I mean charming, quite charming, forest."

Gandalf turned back to face him. "It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn. A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that start an avalanche in the mountains."

"In one thing you have not changed, dear friend." Aragorn smiled.

"Oh?" he leaned closer the Ranger.

"You still speak in riddles."

They both chuckled.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days. The Ents are going to wake up, and find that they are strong." The wizard explained.

Gimli started. "Strong?!" he looked at the trees around him. "Oh, that's good."

"So stop you're fretting, Master Dwarf. Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be!" The old man called over his shoulder as he walked away.

"This new Gandalf's more grumpy than the old one." The dwarf muttered.

Lireal helplessly shook her head and chuckled. Things had improved far more than she had ever dared to hope. They had Gandalf back, and the Ents were waking up. Even if she was charging into a war that was not her own, she would willingly follow her friends and companions. Haldir was right she really had broken her vow. But, she was glad she did. After all, if she didn't, where would she be now?

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**


	22. The Golden Hall

**A/N: Hello all! Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! Onwards and upwards! Thank you my little cuz for recommending me, so I will do the same. If any of you are interested in Naruto, my cousin, NameWithNoMeaning, has a fic called 'Kanashisa: Child of Bone and Ice.'**

**One of these days I'm actually going to have to post the words and their translations for this…except I haven't finished my 'dictionary' yet.**

"_You should know this means ancient language/Dragorlai tongue."_

"Heehee. And this is….(duh duh DUH) ELVISH! That's right children, the world is ending!"

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my characters! **

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The old man pursed his lips letting out a sharp whistle. She peered into the distance, catching sight of the horses. Two horses came galloping towards them. If she strained her eyes, one of them seemed very familiar indeed.

"That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." Legolas said.

The great silver-white stallion approached Gandalf, nuzzling him gently.

"Shadowfax." The wizard smiled. "He is the lord of all horses. And has been my friend through many dangers."

Lireal barely held back her cry of joy when she was certain. She couldn't help but smile slightly and run forward a few paces to greet him.

Her stallion was beautiful, strong and proud, with a black mane and tail, and black stockings, with a white star on his forehead with the rest of his body a dusty gold color. He wasn't as thin or finely built as the Rohan horses, but that was to be expected. He was different; a mountain horse for sure, and a wild one. Creatures such as he were only found in her homeland; the land had changed them so that they lived as long as their masters. Seishin, she had named him, and it fit him; it meant 'spirit' in her native language. The dark-haired woman turned back to her companions, silver-grey eyes glowing. She was as eager as her steed to be off.

"Not a Mearas…but what?" The Elf wondered.

She laughed softly. "A wild stallion from the mountains in my homeland. The land there has changed them; the horses are very similar to Mearas. Seishin is his name; Spirit in your tongue."

As they rode across the plains of Rohan, Shadowfax ran quickly, but not so fast that it was beyond the ordinary horses. Her own stallion kept pace easily, probably one of the few creatures that perhaps could match the Mearas' speed.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

They were forced to make camp that night. Gimli and Legolas slept easily. Aragorn remained awake, tending the fire, and Gandalf stared out over the hills to the red light and darkness in the east. Lireal stood beside him, but they did not speak. Slowly, Aragorn rose and stood beside Gandalf.

"The veiling shadow that glowers in the East takes shape." The wizard said softly. "Sauron will suffer no rival. From the summit of Barad-dur his Eye watches ceaselessly. But he is not so mighty yet that he is above fear. Doubt ever gnaws at him. The rumor has reached him. The Heir of Numenor still lives."

The old man glanced at the Ranger. "Sauron fears you, Aragorn. He fears what you may become. And so he'll strike hard and fast at the world of Men. He will use his puppet Saruman to destroy Rohan. War is coming. Rohan must defend itself, and therein lies our first challenge, for Rohan is weak and ready to fall. The king's mind is enslaved, it's an old device of Saruman's. His hold over King Theoden is now very strong. Sauron and Saruman are tightening the noose."

"But for all their cunning, we have one advantage." Gandalf looked back to the East. "The Ring remains hidden. And that we should seek to destroy it has not yet entered their darkest dreams. And so the weapon of the Enemy is moving towards Mordor, in the hands of a Hobbit. Each day brings it closer to the fires of Mount Doom. We must trust now in Frodo. Everything depends upon speed, and the secrecy of his quest. Do not regret your decision to leave him. Frodo must finish this task alone."

Aragorn interrupted quietly. "He's not alone. Sam went with him."

"Did he? Did he indeed?" the wizard smiled slightly. "Good. Yes, very good."

"And neither has the sudden motions of the Dragorlai gone unnoticed. They have at last begun to emerge from their haven, whether because of the knowledge that all the races will fall and die together….or to follow the footsteps of their lady." Gandalf looked at the dark-haired woman. "Indeed they have been seen all across the land, bringing their healing gift with them. They will play only a small part in this war, but an important one none the less. They will save many lives, I do not doubt. You should be proud. That you should take this cause so to heart has surely riled them more than any war-horn."

Lireal only nodded.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

In the late morning of the next day, the city came into view. The companions paused for a moment, resting their horses.

"Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld." Gandalf announced. "There dwells Theoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Theoden is now very strong. Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here."

The five friends rode towards the city. It didn't take very long to reach the gate, the day just passing into the noontide hour.

As they rode through the town, Lireal couldn't help but notice the despair and grief in every face. Every person was dressed in dark, dreary colors.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli muttered.

The group approached the door to the Golden Hall, ascending the staircase before it. A unit of guards came out and stopped them, blocking the door.

"I cannot allow you before Theoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame." The man looked thoroughly displeased. "By order of Grima Wormtongue."

The wizard got the hint. The guard was upset to be taking orders from anyone but his lord. But he still nodded to his companions, indicating for them to hand over their weapons.

Lireal balked. Her swords and bow had been one of her few gifts from her father. She had never been parted from them, and she did not intend to do so now. Gimli too, hesitated to hand over his axe. Legolas and Aragorn slowly but surely complied.

"_Stop your worrying; you'll get them back soon enough." _ The old man grumbled, upset with the delay. "_Just relax. You can fight well enough without them. I know what they mean to you, and I assure that you will not be parted again, but for the moment, you need to behave."_

With a soft sigh she unbuckled her sword belt and quiver, handing her weapons over. She still had a knife in her boot, but she wasn't going to tell them that, and she wasn't going to surrender it. The wizard just let it go at that; she had given up all her obvious weapons, and that was good enough.

"Your staff." The guardsman mumbled.

Gandalf leaned against it. "You would not part an old man from his walking stick."

The guard acquiesced, turning to lead them through the Golden Hall. Gandalf took Legolas' arm and leaned upon his 'walking stick.' The dark-haired woman was tempted to laugh at the man's foolishness, yet she knew that he knew that they were only here to help. The doors closed and bolted behind them, and they could only move forward.

She noticed a group of ragtag thugs following them in the shadows. However, she quickly turned her attention to two men; one dressed all in black with pale skin, as if he rarely walked under the sun, and the other was King Theoden. She had met him once before, but now he looked ancient and broken, nothing like the Man that she remembered.

She could hear the one in black whispering. "My lord, Gandalf the Grey is coming. He's a herald of woe."

"The courtesy of your hall has somewhat lessened of late, Theoden King." The wizard walked on his own now.

The ancient man in the throne groaned. "Why should I welcome you, Gandalf Stormcrow?"

"A just question, my liege." The black-robed man stood, stepping towards them. "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lathspell, I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

Gandalf met him head on. "Be silent. Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fired and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." He raised his staff.

"His staff." The stranger cried as he fell back. "I told you to take the wizard's staff."

It was then that the thugs came rushing in. Instantly the other four fell into defense mode, protecting the wizard. The fight was quick, the thugs proving to be clumsy and unskilled. Lireal dodged a blow to her stomach and slammed the man under his chin with her fist. The next one fell to a vicious side-kick. She was aware of Gandalf speaking as she rushed about with the other three, keeping a clear circle about the old wizard.

"Theoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows." The wizard said, striding towards the king.

Gimli pinned the black-robed man to the ground with his boot, with a growl. "I would stay still if I were you."

The dark-haired woman took a heavy blow that knocked back her hood, but she still charged into the fray fearlessly beside her friends. Then, the fight was over, and they gathered about Gandalf, offering quiet support.

"Hearken to me!" Gandalf raised his hand. "I release you from the spell."

The ancient king laughed, but it was Saruman's voice that came from Theoden's mouth. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey."

The wizard cast aside his grey cloak, revealing his glowing white robe. "I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

The faces around her glowed with awe and shock. Lireal could only smirk, for she knew the truth of Gandalf that few had ever seen or would see.

A young woman dressed in white emerged from a side room, and Aragorn restrained her as she tried to run to Theoden.

"If I go, Theoden dies." Saruman hissed.

Gandalf held his staff level, pointing at the king. "You did not kill me, and you will not kill him."

"Rohan is mine." The traitorous wizard growled through his puppet.

"Be gone." The white wizard focused.

Theoden lurched forward suddenly, before falling back limply. The dark-haired woman could tell by the change in the air and aura in the room that Saruman had been expelled.

The Ranger released the young woman and she ran to the king. Years faded away from him, and he seemed decades younger.

"I know your face." He breathed, staring at the woman. "Eowyn. Eowyn."

Theoden turned and looked up. "Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." The wizard smiled.

The king stood. "Dark have been my dreams of late." He glanced down at his hands.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better, if they grasped your sword." The old man suggested.

A guardsman presented it to him, hope growing in his eyes. Slowly Theoden wrapped his fingers about the hilt before unsheathing the sword. Then, his gaze fell on Grima. The hatred there, the anger of the imprisoned, gleamed dangerously. It did not take much to guess his intentions.

She couldn't help her smirk of satisfaction as the black-robed man was tossed down the stairs, the king following after with his sword. In her mind, the traitor was going to get exactly what he deserved: death.

"I've only ever served you, my lord." The stranger pleaded.

Theoden growled in denial. "Your witchcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!"

"Send me not from your sight." he begged, to no avail.

Just as the king brought his sword up for the blow, Aragorn intervened. "No, my lord! No, my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

The Ranger even went so far as to offer Wormtongue a hand up. The black-robed man wasted no time spitting on it, shoving through the crowd and taking off on a horse, back to Saruman. Lireal snatched up her bow, the man still easily within range. Gandalf gently lowered it back down, shaking his head. The dark-haired woman growled in frustration, but she released the tension in her bow.

"Hail Theoden King!" Aragorn called out.

The peasants knelt, as did the guards behind him.

Suddenly, Theoden looked lost. "Where is Theodred? Where is my son?"

Slowly, the woman named Eowyn stepped forward. "He is badly injured, my lord. He is dying."

The man turned to Gandalf. "Can you save my son?"

"That is not within my power." The wizard shook his head.

The king's face filled with despair.

"But…" The old man began.

That single word put a glimmer of hope in Theoden's eyes.

"There is another here who can." He finished, staring hard at Lireal.

"Who?" The king begged.

"Darkhunter…" The wizard started.

She sighed. She knew that the wizard would eventually get his way, and in this case, time was of the essence. "Very well then."

The men in general seemed surprised, not just the king. They seemed to just be noticing her…feminine qualities. Gandalf, however, was pleased that she had agreed so easily.

"You can save my son?" The king begged.

"Perhaps." Lireal would make no promises.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Lireal had kicked them all out once she had taken in the condition of the boy. Though she supposed by their terms he was a man. But either way, he was a bit younger than she had expected. Once she had done all she could do, she stumbled out into the main hall where everyone was waiting.

The dark-haired woman's friends quickly took in her condition before arms reached out to stabilize her, and she didn't even bother to remain her dignity and slumped against them as much as she dared. Healing on such a great scale tired her more than any long battle; she was not raised a healer. She could perform the feat, but it took far more out of her than it would a trained one.

"He'll survive." She said.

Instantly every face in the room brightened, and she felt a faint tug in her heart. A warm, gentle tug. She felt…satisfied? Pleased? No…she felt….happy? Yes, she decided, that was it. She felt happy because she had prevented someone else from suffering the way she had.

"I cannot even begin to thank you." The king smiled. "Though I must ask…"

Thankfully, Gandalf saved her from a full interrogation. "Perhaps another time."

"_You pushed yourself too far this day."_ The wizard rumbled.

She sighed. "_The wound was deep and festering. I had to save him…how could I let others suffer as I have suffered?"_

In that moment, her old friend looked her over truly for the first time since they had parted in Moria. He could see it now; a faint gleam in her eye, in the truth of her smile; she was healing. She was finally healing. After all these centuries, finally healing.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Later that evening she was bombarded with questions once she recovered her strength.

"Tell me," the lady Eowyn inquired, "how did you become a warrior?"

The dark-haired woman gave her reply no thought. "My Father taught me everything he knew."

The blonde haired woman gasped. "Truly?"

"Of course." She frowned.

Legolas changed the subject. "When did you learn to speak Elvish?"

"My father was friends with Elrond and Celeborn; many days we spent in Rivendell and Lorien. It was inevitable that I would learn it." She explained.

Gandalf chuckled. "That's because you're just as curious as a hobbit."

"I am not." she retorted.

"That was the only reason I convinced you to come to the Council." He reminded her.

She shook her head. "That isn't true."

"This one knows many languages; Dwarvish and Elvish included." Gandalf smirked.

She heard Gimli's approving grumble.

Theoden entered the room then. "Theodred is doing far better than I would have ever dreamed. Truly, I can't thank you enough."

The dark-haired woman shrugged. "I do as I must."

"You wouldn't have done that before." The wizard's remark silenced the room.

Her lips pulled together in a scowl as a black look settled into her eyes. Abruptly with a snarl she spun and left the room, any joking laughter gone from her face.

"Was it something I said?" Gandalf teased innocently, knowing perfectly well that had sparked her reaction.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**


	23. Starry Night

**A/N: I think this just might turn into two chapters in one day! I love you my faithful readers! Bum Bum BUM! The time has come! For….! You'll just have to figure it out! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…HAHA…HA…HA…haha…ha…. It hurts to laugh now….**

"_Whee, AL. That's right, I'm abbreviating."_

"Bwhahahaha. Elvish. Cause we all know it's beast."

**Disclaimer: I own only my characters.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Lireal sat alone in the night, the breeze gently blowing tendrils of her hair out of her braid and into her face as she stared up at the stars.

She was angry, hurt, scared, and sad all at once. The fact that Gandalf had gone so far as to bring that up upset her. And it made her wonder. Before all this, would she have left the boy to die? And that was what scared her, because she knew the answer. So she was angry at Gandalf, and hurt and sad of what she inevitably remembered whenever she thought of the past.

So deep was she in her thoughts, the dark-haired woman didn't hear the quiet footsteps approaching her. Thus she was startled when someone sat beside her.

She turned to see the blonde Elf sitting quietly next to her on the roof. She sighed, turning back to the stars.

"You are very different now than when we first met." He said softly.

She closed her eyes. "That wasn't even the truth of it; by then I had the cushion of several centuries."

"What was it like?" He mumbled.

Lireal turned to pierce him with her gaze. "I couldn't eat or sleep. I was literally wasted away to nothing but a shadow. My only purpose in life was to kill the traitor. And I always knew in my heart how that battle would play out."

"How?" Legolas whispered. He was in shock. He had seen the deep torment and pain in her eyes when she had looked at him. The overwhelming sorrow in those silver eyes pushed in on him.

"We would both kill each other." She replied bluntly.

Suddenly, there was a crushing grip on her upper arm, forcing her to turn to look at him. "What?!" He stared at her.

"Yes…" her voice softened. "But now…I don't think that's possible anymore…"

His grip on her arm relaxed some, but remained. "Gandalf upset you." He said, recalling earlier that evening when she had stalked out.

"Of course." She snorted softly. "But not in the way I think they took it…I was reminded of things I'd rather forget."

"Why?" His blue eyes stared hard at her.

She couldn't meet his gaze. "Because…because…because I know that it's true. Not so long ago I…I…I would have… just… let him die."

The hand on her arm had crept up to her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Look at me." The commanding tone was unmistakable.

The dark-haired woman kept her gaze focused out on the stars.

"Lireal."

She did her best to ignore him.

"Lyra."

That struck a chord deep inside. She choked suddenly, unable to suppress the memories that followed that nickname. Not wanting to seem weak, she covered her face with her hands.

"Lyra?" The tone had changed to one of panic and worry.

She felt something strong prying her hands away from her face, an iron grip wrapped around her wrists. Lireal kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see his face, see the judgment in his eyes. She didn't want to see the pity there.

"Lyra…" the Elf's voice trailed off softly. "Please look at me…"

Finally, against her better judgment, she opened her eyes. She hadn't cried when she had lost everything; she had never really cried in her life afterwards; she didn't believe herself capable of it. Yet now, she couldn't help the few tears that slipped out. When her silver-grey eyes settled on him, her heart jolted. He was closer than anyone had ever been to her. But what really made her heart jump was the lack of pity there; he hadn't judged her. Legolas really was only concerned and worried about her.

"None of us judge you for the things you've done; only for the things you do now." He murmured.

She sighed, bowing her head. "Oh…"

"Do you really think so little of us?" The Elf mumbled.

"What?" she said, puzzled.

"We would never pity you. Each and every one of us cares very deeply for you." He explained.

Her head snapped up. "Care?"

For a moment he thought she was angry, but then he saw the shock and confusion in those volatile silver eyes.

"Yes. You remember what that means?" He reminded her gently.

"Care…" she mumbled, eyes half-closed. "I remember…"

"Lyra?" he asked.

"Hmm?" she hummed thoughtfully.

"Do you mind if we call you that?" he wondered.

Her lip quivered as she remembered who else had called her that. "N-no… it's just that…"

"What is it?" Legolas reached up without thinking.

And he did the unthinkable.

He gently brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

Every muscle in her body tensed, screaming 'danger.' She never let anyone get this close to her, much less touch her. And yet…she secretly longed for some form of contact. She had never been an openly affectionate person, but she still missed the rare hugs and the more common shoulder slaps.

He recognized the sudden tenseness and withdrew, recognizing his error. He had gotten too comfortable with her; he had overstepped his bounds. But seeing this vulnerable side of her…she seemed so fragile, but yet, he knew better.

"It's alright…" she whispered. "It's just that…that's what…my…they…used to call me."

She couldn't bring herself to say that word. Family. It brought back a familiar ache in her chest. For the longest time, it was all she could feel, so she had decided she would rather not feel anything. But spending time with her companions…her friends…it had reawakened many old feelings she had forgotten. Joy, fear, sadness, worry, a need to protect, a general longing for human contact.

He relaxed slightly, knowing that his error in judgment was forgiven. It pained him when he realized how much hearing the abbreviation of her name so suddenly must have shocked and hurt her.

"I'm sorry." Legolas apologized.

"What for?" she frowned at him.

"I didn't mean to bring back painful memories." He explained.

She gave a soft wry chuckled. "You didn't. They're always there anyways."

He nodded slowly.

It was then they became aware of a voice calling for the elf. The Dwarf looked up at them from where he was standing on the ground.

"There you are laddie! Suren' we've been looking for you too, lass!" He shouted.

Lireal just laughed softly.

They quickly and easily jumped down, joining the Gimli. The three friends vanished back into the Golden Hall.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

A pair of unfriendly eyes watched it all, laughing to themself at the Dragorlai's foolishness.

"How much more can you take before you break?" the person hissed softly.

"How many times can you lose everything before you are broken beyond repair, little sister?"

The person laughed into the darkness, disturbing nothing but an old crow as they slipped away into the night.

The crow ominously circled the Golden Hall, cawing its warning.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

**A/N: Short chappie, I know but…..LEGOLAS FLUFF! **


	24. The Prince and Lady of Rohan

**A/N: Hey guys. The guilt….the guilt of leaving ya'll hanging is overwhelming….but my new game is so cool…**

**I got Guild Wars 2 for my birthday, and I have been playing it almost nonstop ever since. At the moment, I'm a level 11 Norn Ranger.**

"_Elvish!"__ "Ancient Language!"_

**Disclaimer: I only own my characters, nothing else.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

While the others were in council, the dark-haired woman decided to check up on her 'charge.' She wished to ensure that the young man was healing well.

Lireal leaned over him, meaning to make sure that her work had not undone itself, if that were possible. She was stopped by a weak voice.

"You saved me."

She pulled back, surveying the young man with her silver-grey eyes. "Did I?"

"I've heard the muttering of the servants. And I remember a face…your face." The prince of Rohan mumbled.

She shook her head in disbelief. "No face did you see. You were dying; you weren't even conscious."

"A radiant figure appeared to me and spoke not a word, but pulled me from the darkness. That person had the same face; surely you must be her." He weakly grasped her arm.

Lireal blinked slightly in surprise. "It was."

She refocused. "You are healing well; you shall have your strength back soon enough. A few days at the most."

"And what then?" Theodred seemed desperate.

"You return to the war, I suppose." She replied.

He swallowed. "And where will you go?"

"Me?" the dark-haired woman chuckled. "I, too, shall return to the war that Sauron has brought upon this world. Though perhaps not in the role that you may believe."

"What role then, for my savior, if not that of a healer?" Theodred wondered.

She frowned, her expression darkening. "No savior am I. I am a warrior; I damn myself and my enemies to all of eternity in the abyss of Hell. I will fight beside my companions; and yourself as well, should you find the strength to wield your sword once more."

"What of Rohan?" He asked.

"Rohan will do as the king decides; it's not really much my business." She muttered.

He smiled slightly. "Then why are you here?"

"My companions chose to be here, and I chose to follow them." Lireal explained.

"Since you seem to be recovering well enough, I shall take my leave and return to them." The dark-haired woman stood and walked to the door.

"Wait, my lady!" He called out.

She turned back.

He sighed. "You did not tell me your name."

"My name?" she snorted softly. "Tis Lireal Darkhunter, though it matters not. Farewell."

And she walked out, leaving the servants and healers of the king take care of the boy.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Lireal followed the wizard, along with her three friends.

"Helm's Deep." Gimli snorted. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?"

"He is only doing what he feels is best for his people." Aragorn replied. "Helm's Deep has saved them in the past."

Gandalf shook his head. "There is no way out of that ravine. Theoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he's leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre."

He leaned closer to the Ranger. "Theoden has a strong will, but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan. He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defenses have to hold."

"They will hold." The Dunedain nodded.

"The Grey Pilgrim. That's what they used to call me. 300 lives of Men I've walked this earth, and now I have no time." The wizard mounted Shadowfax. "With luck, my search will not be in vain. Look to my coming at the first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east."

"Go." Aragorn murmured.

The wizard spurred his horse onwards, galloping away into the plains of Rohan.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Aragorn was walking through the stables with Hasufel's gear when he noticed a young man brushing down his horse, speaking to Lady Eowyn. There was something familiar in the boy's looks; the way he held himself, that led the Ranger to believe that this was Theoden's son, Theodred.

"Lord Aragorn." Eowyn greeted him, smiling.

He nodded.

"Lord Aragorn?" the young man turned to him. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Eowyn's smile just kept growing. "My cousin and I were trying to think of the best way to show our gratitude to Lady Darkhunter for saving his life."

"Keep your gratitude." Aragorn replied gently. "She'll not want it."

"But surely there must be some way for me to thank her?" Theodred questioned.

The Ranger shook his head. "The best way would be not to thank her at all. She would not welcome it warmly. Twice already, I believe you may have overstepped your bounds; I would not push the limits of Lireal's mercy."

"What?" The young man blinked in confusion. "Surely we speak of some different person, for that does not sound like the woman who saved me at all."

Aragorn sighed. "But it is. Now-"

Theodred cut him off. "Lady Lireal!" he greeted her joyfully.

Her cold glare instantly froze him on the spot, stealing his mirth. "Never refer to me as such. My name is Darkhunter, as far as you are concerned."

"But…" the prince's voice trailed off. "I only wished to-"

"Don't." she snarled.

She turned to the Ranger. "Aragorn, are you almost finished here? Theoden is looking for you."

The Man nodded. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

With a curt nod, she spun on her heel and walked away.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

What they didn't know, what they didn't need to know, was that it had not been truly Lireal that had saved his life. She was no skilled healer; she had done her best, but it would not have been enough. When the boy had spoken of the bright figure, she had realized what had happened. Somehow, another had managed to pull the boy back from the brink of death. In a world of black and white color had no meaning; only one person in the world shared her exact face; the problem was, that person had been dead for six centuries and counting. In a world of black and white, the difference between blonde and auburn wasn't so striking. Her twin had been a mastered healer, even as Lireal was an accomplished swordsman.

Her only worry, her only question was how? How had her twin saved him? Why was easily answered; her sister was soft and gentle as Lireal was not. It was how that stumped the dark-haired woman's logic. How?

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Lireal stood in the shadows, watching the Lady of Rohan wield a blade, swiping at the air. She watched the following encounter with Aragorn as well, before she revealed herself.

"Not all acts of valor are in war."

The blonde woman spun, turning to face her. "What do you know? You have been gifted; you can fight beside them, and both they and you think nothing of it!"

"You are mistaken. It is no gift. It is heavy burden to bear, for those who have not the heart for it. You are strong; do not be so petty as to believe otherwise." The dark-haired woman scolded.

Blue eyes sparked. "You have known glory in battle; how could you even begin to imagine the lot of another?"

"You act as though I possess some greatness you do not; I assure you that that is not so. If you chose to damn yourself to such a life, than it matters not to me. I think that your cousin and your brother think otherwise." Lireal growled.

The two glared at each other for many minutes, until the Dragorlai heard faintly Gimli calling her.

So the lady of Rohan and the lady of the Dragorlai did not part on good terms.


	25. The First Battle of Rohan

**Hello again! No one reviewed last chapter! Awww… I love you all anyways! Onwards! Tallyho! Typing lying down is difficult…**

"_AL. Cause I'm a lazy hobo." __"ELVISH!"_

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my characters.**

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

They had set out, the long winding line of the refugees stretching long behind them. Lireal rode with her three friends, close to the front of the column. Beside them, Eowyn lead Gimli's horse beside her cousin, who was mounted on his own steed. Aragorn and Theoden rode side by side behind them, with Lireal and Legolas behind them.

"It's true that you don't see many dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for dwarf men." The dwarf explained.

The Lady of Rohan looked to Aragorn.

"It's the beards." He whispered.

"That has led rise to the belief there are no dwarf women, and that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!" Gimli waved wildly.

Eowyn laughed.

"Which is, of course, ridiculous." The dwarf finished.

Apparently the horse had had enough of its Dwarven rider, for it then took off, and Gimli promptly fell off. Lireal chuckled at his expense.

"It's alright. Nobody panic. That was deliberate." Gimli called. "It was deliberate."

The blonde woman rushed forward to help the Dwarf up.

Theoden turned to the Ranger. "I haven't seen my niece smile for a long time. She was a girl when they brought her father back dead; cut down by orcs. She watched her mother succumb to grief. Then she was left alone, to tend her king in growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father."

Eowyn smiled back at them.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

Later that evening when the group had made camp, Eowyn approached first Gimli, and then Aragorn. The Dwarf refused her, but the Man did not. Lireal quietly stared out into the plain, thinking, paying little attention to the outside world.

After turning the Lady of Rohan away, Gimli approached the Dragorlai.

"If she offers you soup, say no." He grumbled.

The dark-haired woman snorted, shaking her head at the infallible dwarf.

"You been awful quiet lately, lassie." The dwarf mentioned.

"Aren't I always?" she smiled. "I've been thinking, that's all."

Gimli nodded. "What kind o' thinking?"

Lireal shrugged. "My normal thoughts, I suppose."

"Just tell me, lass." The dwarf muttered.

She shook her head. "They aren't the sort of thoughts meant to be spoken aloud."

Gimli was alarmed. "Lassie?"

"I've just been wondering." She said softly. "Where did I go wrong? How could we be so similar, yet so different."

"What're ye talking about?" He inquired, curious and alarmed.

Her silver-grey eyes closed. "Eowyn. Our situations aren't so different in ways, yet the outcomes are so very diverse."

"Huh?" The Dwarf was confused, he hadn't heard Theoden's comment to Aragorn.

The Elf approached them then, slipping gracefully into place beside the pair.

Gimli turned to him. "The lass is saying something odd. I don't understand it meself."

Legolas turned to her, a single brow raised.

She shook her head. "It is nothing."

What the dark-haired woman had been contemplating was the fact that Eowyn had lost both her parents, and was still untouched by shadow. When Lireal had lost her family to the traitor and her minions, she had gone insane from the darkness in her heart and the pain of loss. How were the two so alike and yet so different?

Her friends gave up trying to coax the truth out of her and simply stood by her, offering Lireal what support they could.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

The next day, a pair of scouts rode by them. The group of friends watched them go. The Ranger, the Elf, and the Dragorlai all sensed some darker presence nearby. Uncertain, they could do nothing but press on with the caravan.

The screams and cries of the scouts carried to them on the wind. Lireal urged her horse forward, bringing him to a halt at the top of the hill in surprise. Legolas had already dashed forward and aided the Rohirrim soldier in eliminating the enemy.

"A scout!" he spat, turning to face his friends.

Aragorn had run up to stand beside the dark-haired woman for a moment before he spun about, returning to his horse.

"What is it? What do you see?" Theoden hailed him.

"Wargs! We're under attack!" The Ranger replied breathlessly. "Get them out of here!"

The line of refugees began to disintegrate as the people began to panic. After a short argument with her uncle, Eowyn called them back into line. She began to lead them away, continuing towards Helm's Deep.

Lireal positioned herself beside the Elf, as the two picked off the forerunners of the enemy with well-placed arrows. The men of Rohan were shortly charging past them, and Legolas swung onto his horse as the dark-haired woman merged into the column. The horsemen plus the companions charged into the Warg-riders fearlessly, head on.

There was a great clash of bodies and metal as the two opposing forces crashed together. In short order, both Lireal and Gimli had leapt of their horses, their styles of fighting more suited to having both feet planted on the ground. The Dragorlai swept easily through the orcs and their mounts, spinning and twirling her deadly twin blades. The enemy rarely even saw their death's coming, so swiftly did she move.

Gimli faced off with a warg. "Bring your pretty face to my axe."

Legolas shot it in the neck just as it reached the dwarf.

"That one counts as mine!" The longbeard shouted angrily before he was busy with another warg.

This one, in its death, landed on top of Gimli. That corpse was soon joined by that of an orc, before a living warg stepped on the pile as the dwarf struggled to lift it off himself. The Elf slayed this one also, spearing it with a discarded javelin.

Lireal noticed that there couldn't be many of the monsters left, and turned to inspect her companions' handiwork. Through a break in the battle she saw something that brought forth a cry of disbelief and rage. A warg charged off the cliff, taking with it an unwilling passenger. Aragorn. She saw red, charging recklessly into the nearest group of orcs and wargs. She fought her way until she was standing on the edge of the cliff, staring down into the raging river below.

"See what happens when you resist me, sister dearest?"

Lireal spun, searching for her enemy, but the traitor was already gone, leaving the Dragorlai to wallow in her grief and anger.

When the battle was over, the Dwarf and the Elf realized the absence of their friend.

"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted, moving forwards in search of his friend.

"Aragorn?" Gimli called while following his friends lead.

Theoden spun about, searching for the Ranger.

The blonde elf stopped, glaring at a chuckling orc. The Dwarf put his axe to the creatures throat.

"Tell me what happened and I'll ease your passing." Gimli growled.

"He's dead." The orc choked out. "Took a little tumble off the cliff."

"You lie." Legolas snarled.

He pulled the orc up, but it died before he could force the truth from it. That's when he noticed something shining in the goblins' hand. The elf stared in disbelief at the familiar piece of jewelry in his hand. The Evenstar. It was Aragorns', given to him by Arwen.

Legolas rushed to the cliff to stand beside Lireal. She spun about, eyes full of raging fire. For a moment he thought she might attack him, before the fires slowly flickered and died.

"The creature spoke the truth. I saw it." She mumbled brokenly.

The three friends were joined by Theoden as they stared, dismayed, into the ravine.

The king turned to one of his soldiers. "Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isenguard will return. Leave the dead."

Legolas turned, staring in anger and disbelief at the man.

"Come." Theoden said, setting a comforting hand on the Elf's shoulder.

The king walked away, leaving the three friends alone beside the place where the Ranger fell.

Lireal couldn't breathe. It was impossible. It couldn't be true, but it was. She slowly turned and blindly stumbled to her horse. For the first time, her vision was fully obscured by tears. Not a single one actually fell, but they were there. She simply let her horse follow the others as they continued to Helm's Deep. She barely noticed that Legolas and Gimli were there also. She mostly just sat there, staring into the open sky ahead brokenly.

Lady Eowyn ran out to greet them as King Theoden led the riders into the fortress.

"So few. So few of you have returned." She murmured.

"Our people are safe. We paid for it with many lives." Theoden mumbled.

At some point the Dwarf had been given the unpleasant task of breaking to news.

"My lady." He said subdued.

Eowyn turned to him. "Lord Aragorn…where is he?"

Gimli cleared his throat. "He fell."

The lady turned to stare in disbelief at her retreating uncle. He turned back and met her gaze sadly before making his way into the keep. The woman leaned heavily on the shoulder of the nearest horse and the leg of its rider.

Lireal blinked through the haze, glancing down at the woman that leaned against her. Perhaps here she had been too quick to draw judgment. The dark-haired woman dismounted before setting a hand uncertainly on Eowyn's shoulder. The blonde woman stared, begging her to reveal it all to be a trick. The Dragorlai shook her head before the two women, both leaning on each other, made their way into the keep.

The two friends watched as Lireal stumbled away with Eowyn, both seemingly overcome with grief. The dwarf sighed, while the elf turned away, neither able to bear the sight of the proud Dragorlai so broken.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**


	26. Helm's Deep

**A/N: Hello, hello, hello. I'm so sorry this update took so long! I've been uber busy with doctor's appointments, running NHS, and college applications! Don't kill me! Please! I'm sorry!**

"_Ancient Language." _"Elvish." I think…

**Disclaimer: I own only my characters.**

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Lireal stood on the battlements on top of the Hornburg, staring out into the cloudy skies. Her thoughts spun as she ignored the calls of the guards for her to retreat with the other women and children into the caves. She would fight, she would die fighting, not cowering in some hole in the ground.

**X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X_X**

"Where is he? Where is he?" Gimli shoved his way through the crowd. "Get out of the way! I'm going to kill him!"

He inhaled deeply, staring at the sight before him. "You are the luckiest, the canniest, and the most reckless man I have ever known."

Aragorn smiled slightly as he handed his horse to one of the stable hands.

The Dwarf embraced his dear friend. "Bless you laddie."

"Gimli, where is the king?" The Ranger pushed his friend to arms-length.

The red-bearded dwarf pointed.

"And ye better see to the lassie while you're at it!" He shouted at the man's retreating back.

Aragorn reached the door before he was stopped again.

"You're late." The Elf noted. Then Legolas frowned. "You look terrible."

The man chuckled.

Eowyn, who was nearby, turned around at the sound, staring in disbelief at the Ranger speaking to the blonde elf.

Legolas gave his friend back his possession, and the man stared at the jewel for a moment before murmuring his thanks and resuming his search for the king.

"And Aragorn," the Ranger looked back. "you should speak to Lireal."

The man just nodded and continued on. He pushed the doors open, striding down the hall to where the king sat.

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All the companions save the dark-haired woman stood in the hall, listening to what Aragorn had to say. The king and some of his retainers were there also.

"A great host, you say?" Theoden inquired.

"All Isengard is emptied." The Ranger replied.

"How many?" the king wondered.

"Ten thousand strong at least." The northerner reported calmly.

"Ten thousand?" Theoden breathed in disbelief.

Aragorn remained grim. "It is an army bred for a single purpose: to destroy the world of Men. They will be here by nightfall."

The king led the way out of the hall. "Let them come."

He turned to one of his captains. "I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle by nightfall."

Theoden led the Elf, Ranger, and Dwarf out onto the causeway. "We will cover the causeway and the gate from above. No army has ever breached the Deeping Wall or set foot inside the Hornburg!"

"This is no rabble of mindless orcs." Gimli interrupted. "These are Uruk-hai. Their armor is thick and their shields broad."

The king towered over him. "I have fought many wars, Master Dwarf. I know how to best defend my own keep."

Aragorn patted the Dwarf on his shoulder as he walked by, following Theoden up onto the wall.

"They will break upon this fortress like water on rock. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn. We've seen it before. Crops can be resown, homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them." The king continued out and along the wall.

Aragorn interjected. "They do not come to destroy Rohan's crops and villages. They come to destroy its people, down to the last child."

Theoden grabbed the man's arm, speaking in a gruff whisper. "What would you have me do? Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."

"Send out riders, my lord." The Ranger continued. "You must call for aid."

"And who will come?" the king muttered. "Elves? Dwarves? We are not so lucky in our friends as you. The old alliances are dead."

The Ranger shook his head. "Gondor will answer."

"Gondor?!" Theoden growled. "Where was Gondor when the Westfold fell?! Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us?! Where was Gon—No, my Lord Aragorn…we are alone."

The king of Rohan strode away, leaving the friends on the wall, giving orders to his captain. Aragorn nodded to himself as he stared at Theoden's retreating back.

Gimli cleared his throat. "Now's as good a time as any to go talk to the lass."

The Ranger nodded again before setting off in search of his missing friend. Yet he wondered, why the other two were pushing him so much to seek her out.

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When Aragorn found her, she hadn't moved from her spot atop the Hornburg. He gently grasped her shoulder. She didn't turn around.

Lireal was too lost in her own thoughts to really pay attention to the world around her. She was trying to sort out her emotions into some semblance of order. The fall of her friend had left her badly shaken. She had retreated back into the coldness she knew so well. When she felt the hand on her shoulder, she simply shook it off.

When she merely brushed his hand off, the Ranger began to suspect something was amiss. He grabbed her forearm, pulling her about to face him.

Her silver-grey eyes widened in pure shock when she saw him there. It was impossible. And yet, had not Gandalf come back to them, and hadn't that fall been greater? But she couldn't bring herself to believe it.

"It cannot be." She breathed.

Aragorn smiled. "It is."

He stepped forward, resting his hands on her shoulders. The man inspected her. "You haven't been eating or sleeping." He scolded her softly.

The dark-haired woman smiled sadly. "No. How could I?"

He shook his head. "I would have thought you would have been angry."

"That reminds me…" she mumbled, moving her arm.

The man staggered back from the blow.

"Don't ever do that again, you hear! You scared us all half to death!" She chided.

Aragorn could only chuckle. "I guess I deserved that."

Lireal merely tossed her head defiantly, turning away and heading down the stair. She glanced back over her shoulder at the man, who was still standing where she had left him. "Don't we have a battle to prepare for?"

The Ranger smiled before following his friend.

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Aragorn was outlining his plan to his companions. "We'll place the reserves along the wall. They can support the archers above the gate."

"Aragorn, you must rest." Legolas insisted. "You're no use to us half alive."

Eowyn came then. "My lord! Aragorn!"

His companions faded into the background to give them some semblance of privacy.

"I'm to be sent with the women into the caves." Eowyn said.

The Ranger nodded. "That is an honorable charge."

"To mind the children, to find food and bedding when the men return." She exclaimed. "What renown is there in that?"

"My lady, a time may come for valor without renown." He tried to calm her. "Who then will your people look to in the last defense?"

She shook her head. "Let me stand at your side."

"It is not within my power to command it." Aragorn explained. He turned away.

"You do not command the others to stay!" Eowyn retorted. "They fight beside you because they would not be parted from you. Because they love you."

She searched his face. "I'm sorry." She nodded slightly before taking off in the direction of the caves, pushing between Legolas and Gimli, and giving Lireal a slight look before disappearing.

Aragorn turned, as if to say something more, but the lady of Rohan was gone.

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The friends inspected the armory and the men.

"Farmers, farriers, stable boys." Aragorn shook his head. "These are no soldiers."

"Most have seen too many winters." Gimli agreed.

"Or too few." The Elf added.

Legolas shook his head. "Look at them. They're frightened. I can see it in their eyes."

This declaration was met with the quieting of the bustle about the companions.

"And they should be." He continued. "Three hundred…against ten thousand!"

The Man shrugged. "They have more hope defending themselves here than at Edoras."

The Elf shook his head. "Aragorn. They cannot win this fight. They are all going to die!"

"Then I shall die as one of them!" The Ranger retorted. He turned and walked away.

When the exchange in Elvish had begun, Lireal had been quietly translating to Gimli in Dwarvish.

The Dwarf stopped Legolas from chasing after Aragorn. "Let him go, lad. Let him be."

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Lireal tested the boundary, walking towards the courtyard with her friends trailing behind when she began to vanish in mist.

"Where are you going, lassie?" Gimli inquired.

"I'll be back." Her voice drifted across the void to them. "Do not doubt, I'll be back."

The elf and dwarf returned to the armory to outfit themselves. Keeping to her word, the woman appeared many minutes later in the armory with the usual trailing mist. She was now wearing a scale tunic made of the same metal as her swords, an alloy of mithril and steel. Over it she wore a leather jerkin, and now she also had leather bracers on her forearms. The only other difference was that her cloak was gone.

She arrived just in time to see Legolas hand the Ranger his sword.

"We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray." The elf met his friend's gaze. "Forgive me. I was wrong to despair."

Aragorn clasped his shoulder. "There is nothing to forgive."

The Dwarf appeared then, struggling with a coat of mail. "If we had time, I'd get this adjusted." He released it, and the mail fell, pooling at his feet. "It's a little tight across the chest."

The other three just smiled and nodded, amused by the dwarf. Lireal wondered if he planned these things to relieve the tension.

Suddenly, a horn sounded.

"That is no orc horn." Legolas said, before leading the way up to the courtyard.

The sight that greeted their eyes was a great host of elves, led by none other than Haldir.

"How is this possible?" Theoden asked in wonder.

"I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell." The Elf stated. "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago, we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn rushed to his friend. "Haldir, you are most welcome." He hesitated for a moment before embracing the elf.

The March Warden just smiled and stepped away quickly when the Ranger released him. He then gripped Legolas' forearms in a warrior's handshake.

"We are proud to fight alongside Men once more." Haldir told the king.

Lireal smiled at her old friend. He returned the gesture.

"But, mine are not the only kin here this day." He began.

Her smiled faded. "You don't mean…"

The dark-haired woman's voice trailed off as a group of three separated themselves from the Elves and approached her.

"_My lady."_ Their leader inclined her head. The group consisted of two women and one man. "_We heard of you preparing for battle. We felt that we should be here to assist with the aftermath. And…"_

Here the woman turned away, taking a parcel from the man and offering it to Lireal. "_You seemed to have forgotten something."_

Lireal did not have to open the package to know what was in it. She frowned. "_I do not want it. You'll be sent to the caves with the women and children."_

She turned to Theoden. "Have them sent to the caves."

"But why, what for?" The king inquired.

The leader stepped in gracefully. "We are not warriors, but healers. We would serve you no good on the battlefield. As I told the lady, we are here to aid with the aftermath."

Theoden raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and gestured to one of the men to lead the Dragorlai to the caves. "Who…?"

The dark-haired woman sighed and shook her head, but did not answer.

They all retreated to the wall, and began the watch for their enemies.

What they did not know was that some were already in their midst.


	27. The Battle of Helm's Deep, Part 1

**A/N: Hey! Sorry for the delay! School gets in the way a lot, especially since it's my senior year! Please R&R! Please! Reviews give me motivation, which is why there has been so few updates recently!**

**I have a new favorite anime! It's called 'Uta no Prince-sama'. I'm pretty sure that means princes of song, but I could be wrong…And 'Hetalia' (that show is too funny for my own good)**

**Bwahahahahaha! I am back! Sorry, Nanowrimo defeats those who would update!**

**Silent's Third Rule:**

**I've got a loverly bunch of coconuts…Ahem, I mean, review with truth or the tiger will eat you. Threats = Love.**

"_Ancient Language." _"Elvish!"

**Disclaimer: I only own my characters!**

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ (Better?)**

The army of Rohan was in place, with the companions up on the wall, as they waited for the approach of the orc army. They watched in tense silence, each passing moment feeling like an hour. Lireal stood with her friends, as Aragorn moved quietly about, double checking the positions of the Elves put under his care. She could begin to hear the growing chants of the orcs as they moved across the Deeping Comb, and see the lines of torches winding their way towards the defenders.

"You could have picked a better spot." Gimli muttered.

Aragorn came and stood by them. He watched with his three friends the approaching hordes.

"Well, lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night." The Dwarf commented.

There was a flash of lightening then, revealing the swarming black mass headed towards the fortress.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn." Legolas murmured.

Gimli frowned. "Let's hope they last the night."

"We will be by your side until the very end, my friend." The dark-haired woman promised.

Aragorn nodded.

There was another flash of lightening then, before the skies opened up their fury and the pounding rain began tinkling off armor and weapons. Lireal wondered if the world was crying for them, out of sadness, or whether it was crying from joy of having this evil removed. She entertained the thought as long as she could, trying to distract herself from the interminable waiting. It was eerily familiar, only this time others stood by her side. Yet it was the waiting, the calm before the storm, that was the most dangerous part of battle. It could make even the bravest man lose his courage, and the most holy man to lose his faith. The ominous crackle of the thunder and lightning did little more than increase the tension.

The black horde halted a little ways from the wall, leaving a large no-man's land between the wall and the front lines of the enemy.

"Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!" Aragorn marched along the lines of his charges, giving last minute instructions.

"What's happening out there?" Gimli struggled to see over the wall.

Legolas smirked. "Shall I describe it for you? Or would you like me to find you a box?"

The Dwarf chuckled.

The orcs began pounding and chanting, picking up the tempo as they went. The men of Rohan drew their bows, while the elves (plus the Dragorlai) waited for Aragorn's orders. Said man had just unsheathed his sword.

Suddenly, there was silence. One of the men had slipped and fired, the arrow deeply inbedded into an Uruk's throat.

"HOLD!" Aragorn ordered.

Slowly, the orcs began to roar as they charged the wall as arrows swarmed towards the defenders.

"Prepare to fire!" The Ranger shouted.

Each archer of the elven contingent drew an arrow and set it to the string, pulling it taught, waiting for their next order.

"Their armour is weak at the neck and beneath the arm." Legolas gave the elves surrounding them a last pointer.

"Release arrows!" Aragorn commanded, brandishing his sword as a guide, pointing it towards the enemy.

"Did they hit anything?!" Gimli demanded.

The men of Rohan followed the Elves and rained death upon the Uruk-Hai. Yet for every one that fell dead, there were many to take its place.

"FIRE!"

"Send them to me, come on!" The Dwarf grumped as the elves fell into the pattern of drawing and firing into the black writhing mass of orcs.

"Soon enough, Master Dwarf!" Lireal chuckled dryly.

The orcs fired deadly crossbows, with the figures on the wall outlined by the lightening against the dark backdrop of the keep.

"Ladders!" Aragorn warned.

"Good!" The red-bearded Dwarf roared.

"Swords! Swords!" The Ranger commanded.

Following the Elves, Lireal replaced her bow with her twin blades. The swords, even in the black of storm and night, seemed to glow slightly.

All form of discipline was lost as the wall became a battleground of chaotic melee. Her blades flicked this way and that, picking off incoming attacks while slaughtering the creatures that delivered them. Even with their sheer numbers, they would be hard put to force Lireal to move.

"Legolas! Two already!" Gimli shouted.

"I'm on 17!" Was the elven prince's reply.

"I'll have no pointy-ear outscoring me!" He growled.

"Nineteen!" The Elf smirked.

She couldn't help it. "Twenty four!" She called out her own count.

They all laughed slightly, before they resumed fighting. She lightly dodged a clumsy blow and moved in behind it, her swords singing death for her every enemy. Gimli had leaped up onto the wall between two ladders and was shouting out his count as he cut them down.

"Causeway!" Aragorn redirected the archers' attention to the large group of orcs headed up towards the gate.

They covering themselves with shields and as some fell, others eagerly leapt to take their place. It was soon obvious what their goal was. The orcs carried a large tree banded with iron, to be used as a battering ram. They were going to break through the gates.

Yet this was not the defenders only worry; a large orc with a torch was running straight for the culvert. Something was off, for what gain could there be in such a move? Until they remembered that this army was sent by a wizard, and who knows what tricks he could have given his horde?

"Bring him down, Legolas!" Aragorn shouted frantically.

The first arrow embedded in the joint between neck and shoulder.

"Kill him!" The Ranger pleaded. "Kill him!"

The second arrow pierced the same spot on the opposite side. A flash of grey and a third arrow was sunk into its stomach, Lireal having momentarily switched weapons, before she turned back to the close-quarters fight around her. Still the creature ran, before it threw itself into the culvert.

The wall exploded, debris flying everywhere as the rest of the wall shook. Helm's Deep had been breached. This particular piece of wall was where Aragorn had been leading from, and he was caught in the blast. She and Gimli, who had been on the very edge of it, were thrown form their feet. They both leapt and rushed to their friend's aid once they regained balance.

"Aragorn!" the Dwarf cried as he jumped, to stand before his prone friend while he regained his feet.

"Gimli!" The man shouted as he stood. "Lireal!"

The Dwarf was knocked under the water by the orcs, and she stood above him, fending off attacks while he was unable to defend himself. The group of elves that had been stationed in the courtyard of the keep fired upon Aragorn's order.

"Charge!"

They raced to the aid of his companions who had so readily charged to his own. The Ranger stopped to pull Gimli out of the water as Lireal charged ahead with the Elves to hold the gap from the encroaching hordes. Legolas too came racing to his friends' aid, in a very peculiar manner. Picking up a discarded shield, he rode it down to the stairs to his companions, firing arrows all the while.

One of the Elves abruptly turned, once they were alone with Lireal and hidden from the others by the orcs. Their features melted and morphed into ones far more familiar and sinister. With a snarl Lireal leapt at the traitor, being pulled so quickly into their old feud she forgot the battle around her.

"To the keep!" Aragorn ordered. "Pull back to the keep!"

Her focus faltered however, when she heard those words, before she could change course, the traitor got in the way.

"_Did you honestly think I would let you go so easily?"_ she said in her sickeningly sweet voice.

"_You cannot and will not stop me."_ The dark-haired woman growled.

The blonde woman smiled viciously. _"See what becomes of those who would defy us?"_ She jerked Lireal about hard, revealing Haldir's fall.

Her grief provided new motivation. Her dearest companions needed her. She dove forwards, ducking under the traitors' guard before darting towards her friends. There would be other days to fight that battle; what mattered now was this one. She joined up with them, fighting their way up the stair to the higher ground.


End file.
